NDSAY'S    LUCK, 


A  FASCINATING  LOVE  STORY. 
MRS.  FRANCES  HODGSON  BURNETT. 

AUTHOR   OF 

LEEN,"    "THEO,"    "A    QUIET    LIFE,"    "MISS    CREBP1GNY," 
PEETTT   POLLY   PEMBERTON,"   "JABL'S   DAUGHTER." 


AY'S  LUCK,"  a  Fascinating  Love  Story,  by  Mrs.  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett, 
he  best  productions  of  the  pen  of  an  author  who  has  become  famous.  Th« 
if  this  writer's  imagination,  her  crisp  style,  and  her  concise  diction,  appear  at 
in  this  volume.  That  her  earlier  novelettes  are  among  her  best  may  be  seen 
es  of"  Lindsay's  Luck,"  "  Kathleen,"  "  Theo,"  "  Miss  Crespigny,"  "  Pretty 
iberton,"  "A  Quiet  Life,"  and  "  Jarl's  Daughter,"  published  by  T.  B.  Peter- 
thers,  in  uniform  style  with  this  volume.  These  masterpieces  of  Mrs.  Bur- 
us  are  all  love  stories  of  the  brightest,  happiest  and  most  entertaining  descrip- 
:  the  interest  is  always  maintained.  No  more  sprightly  or  beautiful  novels 
nes  named  above  exist  in  print,  and  they  would  do  honor  to  the  pen  of  any 

0  matter  how  celebrated.    Everybody,  young  and  old,  should  read  these  excep- 
•ight,  clever  and  fascinating  novelettes,  for  they  occupy  a  niche  by  themselves 
•Id's  literature  and  ere  decidedly  the  most  agreeable,  charming  and  intere«ti»g 

1  can  be  found  anywhere. 


YORK: 
'HE  F.  M.  LtHPtfON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 


OF  CALIF.  LI^KARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


COPYRIQHT,  1879, 

By  T.  B.  PETERSON  &  BROTHERS,, 
Lindsay's  Luek. 


Stack 
Annex 

f-s 


lt*l% 
CONTENTS. 


Chapter.  ?•&> 

I.  BLUE  BLOOD  AND   CALICO 21 

H.  MIDNIGHT  CONFESSIONS 40 

HI.  HOSES  AND  THOENS 54 

IV.  THE  DEBATABLE  GIFT 71 

V.  NEW  ARRIVALS 86 

VI.  THE  BETROTHAL  RING 106 

VTI.  SHE  SHALL  NOT  MARRY  HTM 116 

9TQ,  "  I  CANNOT  LISTEN  TO  YOU " 130 

IX.  "GOOD-BY,  LADY  LAURA" 145 

X.  YES,  OR  NO  ? 155 

XI.  THREE  DAYS  AGO  1 167 

Ski  1  VOA  TtlfiJWS  ,  ,  ,  183 


2126028 


LINDSAY'S    LUCK 

BY  MRS,  FRANCES  HODGSON  BURNETT. 

AUTHOB  OF 


KATHLEEN,"   "THEO,"  "PKETTY  POLLY 

"MISS  CBESPIGNEY,"    "A  QUIET  LIFE,"  ETC. 


•CHAPTER  I. 

BLUE     BLOOD     AND     CALICO. 

LADY  LAURA  TRESHAM  had  just  oome 
down  stairs  from  her  chamber  to  the  break 
fast  parlor.  I  mention  this,  because  at  the  Priory 
everything  that  the  Lady  Laura  did,  became  a 
matter  of  interest.  And  why  not  ?  She  was  a 
visitor,  she  was  a  charming  girl,  she  was  Blanche 
Charnley's  special  friend  and  confidante,  she  wa§ 
Mrs.  Charnley's  prime  favorite;  the 'Rector  him 
self  was  fond  of  her;  and  all  the  most  influeD- 

(21) 


22  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

tial  young  members  of  the  High  Church  at  Guest* 
wick  (the  Eev.  Norman  Charnley's  church,)  were 
in  love  with  her,  and  watched  the  maroon  cur 
tains  of  the  Charnley  pew  far  more  attentively 
than  they  watched  the  antique  carven  pulpit,  of 
which  the  Guestwick  aristocracy  were  so  justly 
proud. 

I  have  said  Laura  Tresham  was  a  charming 
girl,  and  I  repeat  it,  adding  my  grounds  for  the 
assertion.  Perhaps  I  can  best  do  this  by  present 
ing  her  to  my  readers  just  as  she  stands  before 
the  large,  open  Gothic  window  of  the  cosey,  old- 
fashioned  little  breakfast-room,  the  fresh  morning 
sunlight  falling  upon  her,  the  swallows  twittering 
under  the  ivied  eaves,  —  ivy  gothic  window  and 
sunlight  forming  exactly  the  right  framing  and 
accompaniments  to  Lady  Laura  Tresham  as  a 
picture.  She  is  just  tall  enough  to  be  sometimes, 
in  a  certain  girlish  way,  thought  regal;  she  is 
just  fair  enough  to  be  like  a  stately  young  lily ; 
she  has  thick,  soft,  yellow  blonde  hair ;  she  has 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  23 

blue,  velvet  eyes,  and  with  her  long,  white  morn 
ing  dress,  wears  blue  velvet  trimmings  just  the 
color  of  her  eyes;  for  it  is  a  fancy  of  hers  to 
affect  velvets,  because,  she  says,  ribbons  don't 
suit  her.  But,  in  spite  of  this  assertion,  it  really 
would  be  a  difficult  matter  to  find  anything  which 
did  not  suit  Laura  Tresham.  Everything  suits 
her,  or  rather  it  is  she  who  suits  everything. 
Blanche  Charnley,  who  adores  her,  thinks  there 
is  nothing  like  her  beauty,  and  her  stately,  high 
bred  ways.  All  that  Laura  says,  or  does,  or 
thinks,  is,  in  Blanche's  eyes,  almost  perfect,  and 
she  will  hear  no  other  view  of  the  matter  ex 
pressed.  In  true  girl-fashion,  the  two  have  vowed 
eternal  friendship,  and  they  discuss  their  little 
ecnfidences  together  with  profound  secrecy  and 
the  deepest  interest. 

Every  summer  Laura  comes  to  the  Priory  for 
a  few  weeks  at  least,  and  every  winter  Blanche 
has  spent  in  London  for  the  last  four  years.  The 
Charnleys  are  irreproachable.  The  Reverend 


24  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Norm  MI  was  a  younger  son,  but  fortune  smiled 
upon  him,  nevertheless.  There  is  no  richer  living 
than  Guestwick  in  England  or  Wales,  and  cer 
tainly  no  more  aristocratic  one.  The  country 
gentry  and  nobility  attend  the  High  Church  and 
approve  of  the  Rector.  The  family  drive  to  ser 
vice  in  a  velvet-lined  carriage,  while  Blanche  and 
Mrs.  Charnley  make  their  chanty  rounds  in  a 
pony  phaeton,  whose  ponies  are  miracles  of  value 
in  themselves.  Accordingly,  any  astute  reasoner 
will  observe  at  once  that  it  is  impossible  for  even 
that  most  select  of  dragons,  Lady  Laura's  guard 
ian,  who  is  something  slow  and  heavy  in  Chan 
cery,  to  object  to  his  ward's  intimacy  with  the 
Guestwick  Charnleys,  as  they  are  called. 

So  Lady  Laura  has  been  Blanche's  companion 
from  her  childhood,  and  now  is  more  her  friend 
than  ever.  So  she  makes  summer  visits  to  the 
Priory,  and  so  we  find  her  this  summer  morning 
standing  at  the  breakfast-room  window,  and  lis 
tening  with  some  interest  to  her  host  and  hostess 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 


as  they  discuss  the   contents   of   an 

letter  the  Reverend  Norman  has  just  received 

by  the  morning's  delivery. 

"  I  have  never  seen  him,"  the  Rector  was  say 
ing,  "  but  if  he  is  at  all  like  his  father,  he  is  a 
generous,  brave  young  fellow;  perhaps  a  little 
unconventional  in  manner,  but  still  a  thorough 
bred  gentleman  in  every  noblest  sense  of  the 
word.  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him  for  more  rea 
sons  than  one,  and  I  hope  you  will  make  him  feel 
as  much  at  home  as  possible,  Alicia,  and  you  also, 
Blanche,  my  dear." 

Lady  Laura  turned  toward  the  breakfast-table. 

"Who  is  he,  Mr.  Charnley?"  she  asked.  "I 
suppose  I  may  inquire,  as  I  am  to  meet  him,  and 
I  want  to  know.  You  see  Blanche  and  Mrs. 
Charnley  have  the  advantage  over  me,  in  know 
ing  the  whole  story.  What  did  you  say  his  name 
was?" 

"  Robert  Lindsay,"  read  Blanche  aloud,  glano 
ing  at  the  signature  of  the  open  epistle,  '  Yours, 


26  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

sincerely.'  Papa,  let  Laura  see  this  letter.  It  is 
so  odd,  and  yet  so  —  manly,  I  should  call  it." 

"  Certainly,  the  letter  is  quite  at  Laura' a 
disposal,"  answered  the  Rector,  with  a  smile. 
"  Read  it,  my  dear.  I  admire  its  tone  as  much 
as  Blanche  does." 

Lady  Laura  came  to  the  table  to  take  the  let 
ter,  and,  as  she  stood,  glanced  over  it  with  some 
curiosity  hi  her  eyes.  It  was  rather  a  singular 
letter,  or  at  least  it  was  a  letter  that  expressed  a 
great  deal  of  character.  It  was  frank,  fearless, 
and  unconstrained ;  honest,  certainly,  and  by  no 
means  awkward  in  its  tone.  The  writer  evidently 
did  not  lack  worldly  experience,  and  was  not 
short  of  a  decent  amount  of  self-esteem.  Such 
men  are  not  common  anywhere,  but  they  are  an 
especial  rarity  among  certain  classes ;  and  in  this 
case,  English  reserve  and  dread  of  appearing 
offensive,  gave  way  to  American  coolness  and 
self-poise.  It  was  something  new  to  Laura  Tres- 
ham,  and  she  looked  up  from  the  closing  sentence 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  27 

and  dashing  signature,  "  Very  sincerely,  Robert 
Lindsay,"  with  a  soft  little  laugh. 

"  It  is  an  odd  letter,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  think 
I  ever  read  anything  like  it  before.  Thank  you, 
Mr.  Charnley." 

"I  am  under  great  obligations  to  the  young 
man's  father,"  said  the  Rector,  as  he  refolded 
the  letter :  "  and  I  can  never  hope  to  repay  him 
otherwise  than  by  taking  his  place  toward  his 
son  so  long  as  he  remains  in  England.  I  suppose 
we  shall  see  young  Lindsay  soon.  He  says  his 
epistle  would  scarcely  have  time  to  precede  him 
by  a  day." 

Robert  Lindsay  was  pretty  liberally  discussed, 
as  the  breakfast  progressed.  Events  had  pre- 
posessed  Mrs.  Charnley  in  his  favor,  and  the 
honest  assurance  of  his  letter  had  pleased  and 
amused  Blanche ;  but  Lady  Laura  was  merely 
curious  about  the  new  arrival,  and  had  not  as  yet 
decided  whether  to  like  him  or  not.  She  was 
not  so  prone  to  sudden  admiration  as  Blanche, 


28  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

and  she  had  a  secret  fancy  that  this  simple,  frans 
young  fellow  might  become  a  trifle  tiresome 
through  the  very  frankness  of  his  simplicity. 
SLe  had  also  a  decidedly  English  dread  of  any 
freedom  of  manner,  or  tendency  to  the  ignoring 
of  conventionalities,  which  is  the  popular  idea 
of  an  American  in  England;  so  she  listened  to 
the  conversation  somewhat  dubiously. 

The  day  passed,  as  days  generally  did  with  the 
Charnleys.  They  had  a  pleasant  way  of  spend 
ing  days  at  the  Priory ;  so  pleasant,  indeed,  that 
people  said  killing  time  was  the  forte  of  the 
family.  No  one  ever  felt  the  hours  drag  at  that 
establishment.  Lady  Laura  was  as  fond  of  the 
Priory  as  Blanche  Charnley  herself,  "  One  could 
be  so  deliciously  idle  there,"  she  said,  but  she 
did  not  add  that  after  all,  the  idleness  did  not 
imply  loss  of  time.  There  was  more  company 
at  the  Priory  than  anywhere  else  in  the  Shire  j 
and  the  young  eligibles  who  watched  the  big, 
ancient  pews  on  Sundays,  rode  over  from  their 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  29 

respective  homes  so  frequently,  that  a  day  rarely 
passed  in  which  there  was  not  quite  a  respectable 
party  out  on  the  grounds,  or  in  the  delightful 
old  oak-paneled  parlor,  playing  croquet,  or  string 
ing  bows  and  handing  arrows,  or  talking  pleasant 
nonsense  to  pretty  Blanche  Charnley,  and  mak 
ing  gallant  speeches  to  her  friend.  Half  a  dozen 
of  them  were  there  the  day  of  the  arrival  of 
the  American  letter,  and  among  the  rest  came 
Col.  Treherne,  who  was  blonde,  aristocratic,  long 
limbed,  and  leonine  in  type.  Blanche  Charnley 
had  a  quiet  fancy  that  Laura  did  not  dislike  Col. 
Treherne.  Her  manner  to  him  bore  better  the 
construction  of  cordiality  than  her  manner  toward 
her  numerous  adorers  usually  did ;  sometimes  it 
seemed  even  tinged  with  a  certain  degree  of 
interest,  and  once  or  twice,  when  she  had  ridden 
out  with  her  groom,  she  had  returned  with  Col. 
Treherne  at  her  side,  and  a  bright,  soft  color  on 
her  fair  face.  But  Blanche  was  not  partial  to 
Col.  Treherne.  She  did  not  like  his  air  of  calm 


30  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

superiority ;  she  did  not  like  his  regular  patrician 
features  and  fair  skin ;  she  objected  even  to  hia 
long,  fair  mustache,  and  his  favorite  habit  of 
twisting  it  with  his  white  hand;  and  she  abso 
lutely  detested  the  reflective  coolness  of  the 
questioning  glance  that  generally  accompanied 
the  action,  when  he  was  annoyed  or  wished  to 
repress  any  approach  at  familiarity.  But  of 
course,  she  was  very  polite  to  Col.  Treherne 
when  he  came  to  the  Priory.  She  was  too  thor 
oughbred,  in  spite  of  her  energetic  likes  and  dis 
likes,  to  exhibit  either  openly;  so  she  merely 
confined  herself  to  the  few  stray  shots  good 
breeding  admitted,  in  the  shape  of  an  occasional 
polite  little  sarcasm,  or  a  quiet  move  against  her 
aversion's  game. 

This  particular  evening,  as  she  stood  with  the 
little  party  on  the  archery-ground,  watching  the 
gentleman  stringing  her  friend's  pretty  satin- 
wood  bow,  and  handing  her  arrows,  she  felt  her 
dislike  even  more  strongly  than  usual. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  31 

was  a  spice  of  romance  in  Blanche  Charnley's 
gay  nature,  and  her  love  for  Laura  Tresham  was 
touched  with  it.  She  had  a  cherished  fancy  that 
the  man  who  won  such  a  gift  must  be  perfect  c  f 
his  kind.  He  must  be  brave  and  generous,  and 
whole-souled  in  every  chivalrous  sense.  He 
must  reverence  the  woman  he  loved  beyond  all 
else,  and  he  must  value  her  love  as  the  greal  gift 
of  God  to  man.  There  were  to  be  no  half 
measures  in  its  depth,  no  shade  of  self -woi  ship, 
no  tovjs  >h  of  weakness ;  he  must  be  ready  to  wait, 
to  do,  to  dare  for  her  pure  sake.  He  must 

"Love  one  maiden  only,  cleave  to  her, 
And  worship  her  by  years  of  noble  deeds, 
Until  he  won  her." 

Geoffrey  Treherne  was  not  that  man.  His  love 
for  Lady  Laura  was  only  a  pleasant  sacrifice  upon 
the  altar  of  his  lofty  self-consciousness.  He  was 
a  well-bred  individual,  and,  in  a  certain  punctil 
ious  fashion,  scrupulously,  haughtily  honorable ; 
but  he  would  not  have  "fallen  down  and  wor- 


• 

82  LINDSA-T'SLUCK. 

shiped."  In  his  own  way  he  cared  for  Laura 
Tresham.  Her  fair  face,  and  proud  repose  of 
manner,  pleased  him ;  the  adoration  she  exacted 
pleased  him.  The  woman  he  married  must  be 
capable  of  exciting  admiration.  Her  name  was 
as  ancient  a  one  as  his  own;  although  he  felt 
that  she  was  worthy  of  the  honor  he  intended 
doing  her.  Naturally,  it  was  not  all  calculation, 
though  probably  calculation  predominated.  He 
was  a  man,  after  all,  and  he  loved  her,  and  was 
ready  to  sue  for  her  favor,  after  his  own  fashion ; 
but  he  was  not  Blanche  Charnley's  ideal  of  a 
lover  for  her  friend. 

So,  with  the  consciousness  of  this  on  her  mind, 
Blanche  Charnley  felt  dreadfully  out  of  patience, 
as  she  listened  to  Laura's  clear,  soft-toned  voice, 
and  noticed  that  she  seemed  by  no  means  dis 
pleased.  Once  or  twice  she  even  thought  she 
saw  her  blush  faintly,  at  some  of  her  companion's 
speeches;  and  Lady  Laura  was  not  prone  to 
blushes,  and,  to  Blanche's  quickened  senses,  the 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  33 

soft  touch  of  color  appeared  suspicious.  Suppose 
she  really  cared  for  him  ?  And  then,  why  should 
she  not  ?  The  world  would  call  the  match  a  suit 
able  one,  in  every  sense  of  the  term.  In  the 
depth  of  her  momentary  vexation,  Blanche  drop 
ped  the  arrow  she  held  in  her  hand,  and  bent  to 
pick  it  up,  before  the  gentleman  who  stood  by 
her  side  had  time  to  see  it. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  she  sighed,  unconsciously.  "  I 
V7ish  somebody  respectable  would  come  —  any 
body,  so  that  it  wasn't  Geoffrey  Treherne." 

"I  ask  pardon,"  said  her  escort.  "I  really 
did  not  understand  what  you  said,  Miss  Charnley." 

She  looked  up  and  laughed. 

"  Oh,  excuse  me  !  "  she  said.  "  I  was  think 
ing  aloud,  I  believe.  How  very  rude !  It  is  I 
who  should  ask  pardon."  But  in  her  anxiety  she 
brought  some  diplomacy  to  bear  against  the 
enemy  during  the  remainder  of  the  evening. 
She  gave  him  no  opportunity  to  improve  upon 
any  advance  he  might  have  made,  and  played 
2 


34  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

"  third  party "  so  effectually,  that  Treherne 
actually  found  himself  at  a  loss,  in  the  face  of 
his  dignified  self-consciousness,  and  accepted  the 
Rector's  invitation  to  dinner  in  sheer  self-defence. 

Half  an  hour  after  the  other  visitors  had  made 
their  adieux,  and  the  two  young  ladies  had  gone 
to  their  respective  rooms,  Lady  Laura,  who  was 
sitting  under  the  hands  of  her  maid,  heard  a 
loud  summons  at  the  hall-door,  and,  when  the 
summons  had  been  answered,  the  sound  of  voices. 

She  raised  her  head  with  something  'of  curi 
osity. 

"  I  did  not  know  Mr.  Charnley  expected  visit 
ors,  Buxton,"  she  said,  to  her  waiting-woman. 

Buxton,  whose  hands  were  full  of  the  shining, 
yellow,  blonde  tresses,  did  not  know  that  visitors 
were  expected  either.  "  Unless  it  might  be  the 
American  gentleman,  my  lady.  Mrs.  Charnley 
said  it  was  possible  he  might  come  earlier  than 
they  had  expected." 

"  Oh,  yes ! "    said   Lady   Laura,  indifferently, 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  35 

*  The  American.  I  have  no  doubt  it  is.  I  had 
forgotten." 

Buxton  had  not  completed  her  task,  when  a 
Httle  rap  at  the  door  announced  Blanche  Charn- 
ley,  who,  being  a  quick  dresser,  had  completed 
her  toilet  early,  and  now  entered,  eager  and 
bright,  in  her  pretty,  fresh  dinner  costume.  She 
came  and  seated  herself  at  the  toilet-table  at 
once,  looking  even  more  animated  than  was  usual 
with  her. 

"  Papa's  visitor  has  arrived,  Laura,"  she  said. 
"I  was  on  my  way  down  stairs  when  he  made 
his  appearance,  and  I  had  an  excellent  view  of 
him." 

"  Indeed !  "  returned  her  friend.  "  And  the 
result?" 

Blanche  nodded  her  head  prettily. 

"An  excellent  one,  my  dear,"  she  answered, 
laughing  a  little.  "Robert  Lindsay  will  'do.' 
He  is  stalwart,  he  is  dark,  he  is  well-featured,  he 
is  even  handsome,  and  I  know  he  is  a  desirable 


36  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

individual.  He  is  not  the  least  bit  like  Col. 
Treherne,  Laura,"  meditatively.  "And  he  car 
ried  his  own  valise." 

"  My  dear  Blanche !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Laura, 
raising  her  eyes  in  no  slight  astonishment. 

Blanche  laughed,  and  nodded  again. 

"  Absolutely  did/'  she  said.  "  And  the  effect 
was  not  an  unpleasant  one,  despite  its  novelty. 
He  carried  it  well,  and  looked  quite  at  ease,  and 
honestly  pleased,  when  he  held  it  in  one  hand 
and  gave  the  other  to  papa,  who  came  out  into 
the  hall  to  meet  him.  I  really  don't  believe  Geof 
frey  Treherne  would  have  looked  so  thorough 
bred  under  the  circumstances." 

Lady  Laura  did  not  make  any  reply,  but  the 
suggestion  was  scarcely  a  pleasant  one  to  her 
mind.  The  idea  of  Col.  Treherne  carrying  his 
portable  baggage  in  his  faultlessly-gloved  hand, 
was  such  a  novel  one,  that  it  appeared  almost 
absurd.  That  gentleman's  valet  was  the  envy  of 
all  his  acquaintance,  from  the  fact  of  his  intense 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  37 

respectability  and  desirable  repose  of  manner, 
and  Col.  Treherne  would  decidedly  have  disap 
proved  of  any  campaign  which  would  not  have 
admitted  of  his  attendant's  presence. 

Blanche  was  evidently  prepossessed  in  the  new 
visitor's  favor.  She  chattered  about  him  with 
good-humored  gayety,  and  described  his  appear- 
ance  to  her  listener  with  less  of  disposition  to 
satirize  than  she  commonly  displayed.  The  nov 
elty  of  a  gentleman  who  carried  his  own  valise, 
had  pleased  her ;  and  the  fact  that  the  gentleman 
in  question  was  not  at  all  like  Geoffrey  Treherne, 
had  pleased  her  still  more. 

At  last  Buxton  had  finished,  and  Lady  Laura 
rose  and  stood  before  the  swinging  mirror  to 
favor  the  satisfactory  result  with  an  indolent 
glance  of  inspection. 

"  What  a  lovely  creature  you  aro,  Laura,"  said 
Blanche,  with  a  little  laugh.  ""Piat  soft,  pale- 
blue  dressing-gown  makes  you  loo)  Jike  a  blonde 
angel.  What  is  it  Tennyson  says, 


88  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

"  A  daughter  of  the  gods,  divinely  tall, 
And  most  divinely  fair." 

There  must  be  some  satisfaction  in  your  looking 
at  the  mirror.  All  Buxton's  art  couldn't  make 
my  poor  little  fair  head  look  such  an  aureole. 
Mr.  Lindsay  is  quite  dark,  so  I  suppose  he  will 
at  once  fulfill  the  decrees  of  fate,  by  following 
Col.  Treherne's  august  example." 

"  How  absurd ! "  said  Lady  Laura,  coloring 
faintly,  however.  "  Blanche,  I  beg  —  " 

But  Blanche  only  laughed  again. 

•<  Why  should  it  be  absurd  ?  "  she  asked.  "  He 
is  a  gentleman,  after  all,  whether  his  father  sold 
bales  of  calico  or  not.  Do  you  know,  Laura,  I 
like  these  trading  people.  They  are  astute  and 
thoroughbred  often,  and  I  believe  in  Ralph's 
favorite  theory,  that  we  poor  representatives  of 
the  'blue  blood'  are  falling  from  grace.  Now, 
really,  why  should  not  Robert  Lindsay  love  you, 
and  why  should  not  you  love  Robert  Lindsay,  if 
he  is  worthy  of  it  ?  Dear  me,  how  delightfully 
astounded  Col.  Treherne  would  be." 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  39 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  record  Lady  Laura's 
reply.  That  young  lady  was  astute  also,  and 
sufficiently  so  to  conceal  her  quiet  little  predi 
lections,  even  from  her  friend.  Blanche's  jest 
annoyed  her  a  little,  though  she  was  far  too  wise 
to  exhibit  her  annoyance ;  so  she  simply  smiled, 
with  a  slight  touch  of  reserve,  and  colored  a  little 
again,  and  then  adroitly  changed  the  subject. 


40  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

CHAPTER  H. 

MIDNIGHT    CONFESSIONS. 

WHILE  Lady  Laura's  toilet  was  being  com 
pleted,  after  Blanche  had  gone  down 
stairs  again,  she  gave  the  new  arrival  some  slight 
mental  consideration,  which,  I  regret  to  say,  was 
not  so  favorable  as  he  really  deserved  it  should 
have  been.  Was  he  really  going  to  be  intrusive  ? 
Surely,  something  in  his  manner  must  have  sug 
gested  Blanche's  jesting  speech,  absurd  as  it  was. 
Perhaps  there  was  a  tinge  of  Geoffrey  Treherne's 
haughty  self -security  in  the  object  of  Geoffrey 
Treherne's  admiration.  Lady  Laura  Tresham, 
with  her  fair  face,  and  her  womanhood,  and  her 
rent-roll,  had  the  birthright  to  such  a  pride,  and 
but  one  or  two  persons  who  were  fond  of  her 
knew  that,  notwithstanding  this,  Lady  Laure 
Tresham  was  only  a  very  pretty,  very  tender 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  41 

very  innocent  girl,  of  whom  experience  would 
make  the  sweetest  of  women.  Almost  uncon 
sciously  to  herself,  Robert  Lindsay  was  in  her 
thoughts,  as  she  went  from  her  room  across  the 
broad  upper  landing  leading  to  the  stair-case, 
but  still  she  was  by  no  means  prepared  for  a  little 
incident  chance  brought  about. 

She  had  just  paused  for  a  moment  to  arrange 
the  sweeping  train  of  her  dress  before  going 
down,  when  a  door  opened  behind  her,  and  the 
individual  who  came  out,  in  his  momentary  em 
barrassment  at  finding  her  so  near,  trod  upon  the 
shining,  purple  silk  before  he  saw  it.  It  is  quite 
possible  that  this  occurred  because  he  had  seen 
Lady  Laura  first,  and  that,  after  his  first  glance 
at  the  aureole  of  crSpe'  yellow  hair,  and  the 
delicate  face  slightly  turned  over  her  shoulder, 
he  forgot  the  great  probability  of  there  being  a 
lustrous  yard-long  train  in  her  wake. 

"  I  really  beg  pardon,"  he  said  the  next  instant 
"  Pray,  excuse  me,  Lady  Laura,"  and  he  coi« 
ored  to  his  handsome  brown  forehead. 


42  LINDSAY   S     LUCK. 

The  glance  of  the  eyes  upraised  in  reply, 
augmented  his  confusion.  The  young  lady  did 
not  color  not  even  ever  so  slightly,  but  she  looked 
somewhat  astonished.  Her  only  reply  was  a 
calm,  sweeping  bow,  and  the  next  moment  the 
silken  purple  train  was  rustling  down  the  stair 
case,  and  the  gentleman,  who  was  no  less  than 
Robert  Lindsay  himself,  remained  standing  upon 
the  landing  watching  its  progress  with  the  most 
unconscious  of  honest  admiration.  Now  this 
really  was  not  a  strictly  conventional  mode  of 
proceeding;  but,  as  I  have  before  intimated, 
Robert  Lindsay  was  not  a  strictly  conventional 
individual.  He  was  an  honest,  handsome,  fear 
less  young  fellow,  and  his  honest  beauty  and  fear 
lessness  were  his  chief  characteristics.  Chance 
had  thrown  him  into  a  somewhat  novel  position, 
but  it  was  a  position  whose  novelty  he  was  too 
thoroughly  manly  to  feel  embarrassed  under. 
He  had  been  glad  to  meet  his  host,  and  he  had 
honestly  endeavored  to  repress  his  inclination 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  43 

toward  any  antagonism  for  the  august  but  frigid 
Trelierne.  He  had  thought  Blanche  Charnley  a 
delightfully  pretty  girl,  and  now  as  he  stood  at 
the  head  of  the  stair-case  and  watched  Lady 
Laura  Tresham's  sweeping  purple  train  and  fair- 
faced  golden  head,  he  forgot  that  it  was  unusual 
for  gentlemen  to  exhibit  an  admiration  in  so 
deliberate  a  fashion,  and  remaining  stationary, 
decided  that  he  had  never  seen  a  woman  so 
lovely,  so  fresh,  so  delicate,  and  so  well  dressed, 
in  the  whole  course  of  his  existence. 

There  was  a  curious  little  excitement  upon 
him,  brought  about  by  the  unexpectedness  of 
the  encounter,  and  this  little  excitement  made 
him  turn  into  his  bed-room  again,  before  going 
down  after  the  train  had  disappeared;  and  taking 
his  stand  before  an  open  window,  he  waited  a 
few  minutes  for  the  fresh  night  air  to  cool  him 
off. 

"  It  would  have  been  a  pleasant  sort  of  thing," 
he  said,  almost  unconsciously ;  "  a  pleasant  sort 


44  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

of  thing,  if  a  man  had  lived  in  olden 
have  ridden  to  battle  with  her  little  glove  in  one's 
helmet.  In  that  rich  purple,  it  looked  like  a  lily 
—  her  hand.  Golden  hair,  too,  bright  and  shin 
ing —  just  such  hair  as  fellows  like  Tennyson 
rave  about.  I  wonder  if  Treherne  —  Pah !  No. 
I  forgot  she  did  not  know  me  when  I  called  her 
Lady  Laura.  Laura !  Perhaps  Petrarch's  Laura 
was  such  a  Laura." 

When  he  went  down  to  the  drawing-room,  he 
found  Treherne  bending  graciously  over  Lady 
Laura's  chair,  the  velvet,  blue  eyes,  softly  down 
cast  as  he  talked.  The  most  prejudiced  individual 
could  not  fail  to  acknowledge  that  Geoffrey  Tre 
herne  was  a  handsome  man,  even  in  his  least 
prepossessing  moods;  and  now,  having  in  some 
sort  recovered  from  his  temporary  disappoint 
ment  in  his  deferential  graciousness,  he  was  really 
very  courtly-looking  indeed.  Still,  Robert  Lind 
say  did  not  show  to  any  disadvantage  as  he  bowed 
low  before  Lady  Laura,  when  Mr.  Charnley 


LUCK.  45 

sen  ted  him.  Hia  tall,  stalwart  figure  had  a  self- 
asserting  strength  that  Treherne's  lacked;  his 
clear-cut,  brown  face,  and  clear,  straight-glanced 
eyes,  were  as  perfect  in  their  beauty  as  a  man's 
might  be,  and  the  natural  ease  and  fearlessness 
of  any  self  committal  in  his  manner  to  Blanche 
Charnley's  mind,  at  least,  was  worthy  of  admira 
tion.  But  Lady  Laura,  not  being  prone  to  enthu 
siasm,  saw  only  as  she  rose  slightly  from  her 
chair,  a  very  tall,  rather  good-looking  individual, 
who  had  caused  her  some  little  surprise  a  few 
minutes  before  in  addressing  her  familiarly  by 
her  name,  and  who  was,  at  the  present  time, 
rather  tending  to  increase  it  by  the  unconcealed 
admiration  of  his  glance.  It  was  evidently  an 
admiration  not  easy  to  conceal,  and  it  expressed 
itself  unavoidably,  as  it  were,  in  the  frank,  brown 
eyes  even  once  or  twice  after  Mr.  Robert  Lindsay 
had  taken  his  seat  at  the  dining- table,  exactly 
opposite  Lady  Laura  Tresham.  How  could  he 
help  it?  Every  time  he  looked  up,  he  saw  the 


46  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

pure  girlish  face,  with  its  softly,  downcast  eyes, 
the  delicate,  bare,  shadowed  throat,  and  the  aure 
ole  of  bright,  crepe  hair;  and,  in  spite  of  him 
self,  the  honest  delight  he  experienced,  portrayed 
itself,  to  some  extent,  in  his  countenance. 

The  Reverend  Norman  being  a  generous,  hos 
pitable  gentleman,  was  very  much  predisposed 
in  his  young  guest's  favor.  Really  Robert  Lind 
say  was  apt  to  prepossess  people  through  the 
sheer  power  of  his  great  physical  beauty;  and, 
again,  his  was  one  of  the  rare  cases,  in  which 
there  can  be  no  diminution  of  favorable  opinion. 
He  was  a  good  talker,  through  right  of  a  sweet 
voice,  a  clear  brain,  and  a  quick  sense  of  the 
fitness  of  things.  He  had  traveled  as  much  as 
most  men,  and  had  seen  more.  He  had  enjoyed 
his  youth  heartily,  and  appeared  likely  to  enjoy 
his  manhood  ;  and,  at  twenty-six,  despite  a  pretty 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  world,  he  still  retained 
a  simple  chivalrous  faith  in  things  good  and  true, 
such  as  few  men  can  thank  Heaven  for  the 
possession  of. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  47 

Occasion  illy,  during  the  evening,  Lady  Laura 
found  herself  regarding  him  with  some  interest. 
There  was  a  novelty  in  this  fearless  man  that 
impressed  her,  and  attracted  her  attention.  He 
was  talking  to  Blanche  about  a  hunting  trip  he 
had  made  in  California,  when  her  eyes  were  first 
drawn  toward  him.  It  was  a  wild,  adventurous 
story  he  was  telling ;  but  he  was  plainly  telling 
it  well,  and  with  such  a  man's  hearty,  zestful 
remembrance  of  its  pleasures ;  and  Blanche  was 
listening,  her  look  of  amused  interest  not  unmix 
ed  with  a  little  admiration.  He  had  not  been 
intrusive  so  far,  notwithstanding  his  frank  eyes, 
and  the  trifling  singularity  of  conduct  in  his 
watching  her  passage  down  stairs ;  accordingly 
Lady  Laura  felt  herself  at  liberty  to  judge  him 
impartially.  He  was  handsome,  certainly;  and 
a  certain  air  of  boyish  freshness  and  spirit  in  his 
style,  was  whimsically  pleasant.  How  he  seemed 
to  be  enjoying  the  jests  he  was  making,  and  how 
well  his  gay  laugh  chimed  with  the  ring  of 


48  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Blanche's.  He  would  be  a  very  hearty,  honest 
lover  for  some  woman  one  day,  and  then,  uncon 
sciously,  she  glanced  up  at  Geoffrey  Treherne, 
who  stood  at  her  side,  holding  her  little  lace  fan. 

"  Our  friend  seems  to  be  enjoying  himself," 
said  that  gentleman,  with  calm  disapproval  of  the 
new  arrival's  being  so  thoroughly  at  his  ease. 
Col.  Treherne  felt,  in  an  undefined  manner,  thai 
the  young  man  ought  to  be  a  little  overpowered 
dnder  the  circumstances. 

But,  singularly  enough,  whatever  the  cause  of 
the  phenomenon  might  have  been,  Lady  Laura 
did  not  respond  so  cordially  as  her  companion 
had  expected.  In  fact,  her  manner  was  rather 
coldly  indifferent,  when,  after  glancing  across  the 
room,  she  made  her  reply. 

"  I  had  scarcely  observed,"  she  said.  "  Blanche 
appears  to  be  interested,  however,  and  Blanche  is 
usually  not  easily  pleased.  Mr.  Lindsay  is  a  very 
pleasant  sort  of  person,  I  should  judge." 

Treherne's  hand  went  up  to  his  big,  fair 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  49 

tache,  doubtfully.  He  did  not  understand  this. 
He  felt  as  though  he  had  been  slightly  repressed, 
and  he  liked  Mr.  Robert  Lindsay  none  the  better 
for  it,  for,  little  as  that  "pleasant  sort  of  person" 
was  to  blame,  he  could  not  avoid  connecting  him, 
in  some  indefinite  manner,  with  the  polite  rebuff 
he  had  met.  Surely  Lady  Laura  did  not  intend 
to  countenance  this  person  by  even  the  mildest 
of  lady-like  championship.  He  turned  around 
and  looked  down  at  her;  but  the  lights  of  the  glit 
tering,  pendant  chandelier  shone  down  upon  the 
most  tranquil  and  untranslatable  of  fair  faces, 
and  he  was  fain  to  smooth  his  mustache  again, 
and  decide,  mentally,  that  this  was  an  excessively 
unsatisfactory  state  of  affairs. 

It  was  late  when  the  family  retired,  but  it  was 
not  too  late  for  Blanche's  customary  visit  to  her 
friend's  chamber.  During  Lady  Laura's  stay  at 
the  Priory,  few  nights  passed  without  pleasant, 
girl-like  chats  being  held  in  one  apartment  or 
the  other.  Blanche's  dressing-room  adjoined 
t 


60  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Laura's,  and,  upon  this  occasion,  her  young 
ship  had  just  dismissed  her  waiting-woman,  when 
the  young  lady  made  her  appearance  in  dressing- 
robe  and  slippers,  brush  in  hand,  her  abundant, 
pretty,  fair  hair  hanging  loosely  about  her. 

"  I  want  to  have  a  long  chat  to-night,  Laura," 
she  said,  after  she  had  tucked  her  small,  slippered 
feet  under  her  gay  wrapper,  on  the  most  luxu 
rious  little  lounge  in  the  room.  "  You  are  not 
tired,  are  you  ?  You  don't  look  tired.  The  fact 
Is,  you  never  do  look  tired.  How  delightfully 
flossy  and  yellow  your  hair  is ;  you  are  sitting  in 
an  actual  bower  of  gold.  I  always  think  my 
hair  is  pretty  until  I  look  at  yours.  Now,  tell 
me  what  you  think  of  Robert  Lindsay  ? " 

All  this,  in  one  gay,  little  rattling  speech, 
sounded  exactly  like  Blanche  Charnley,  and  no 
body  else ;  and  then  she  shook  her  fair  tresses 
back,  and  paused  for  a  reply,  with  something 
more  watchful  in  her  eyes  than  one  would  have 
Imagined  the  careless  question  warranted. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  61 

i  is  to  be  an  honest  opinion,  Laura," 
she  8-JdeJ,  "without  the  least  regard  for  the 
bales  of  calico,  and  entirely  unbiased  by  any 
stately  remembrance  of  that  first  august  Tres- 
ham,  who  came  over  with  the  Conqueror.  What 
— do  —  you  —  really — think  —  of — Robert  Lind- 
say?" 

"  Think  ? "  said  Lady  Laura,  complacently, 
and  with  some  slight,  young  lady-like  mendacity, 
be  it  known.  "I  think  he  is  vefy  big,  my  dear; 
aod  really,  I  believe,  that  is  all  I  have  thought 
just  yet." 

Blanche's  pretty  shoulders  were  shrugged  ex 
pressively. 

"  That  is  so  like  you,  Laura,"  she  said.  "  And 
it  is  exactly  what  I  expected,  too.  I  knew  you 
wouldn't  do  him  justice,  poor  fellow.  Well,  sup 
pose  I  give  you  my  opinion  of  Mr.  Robert  Lind 
say.  I  —  think  —  he  —  is  —  splendid!" 

Lady  Laura  drew  a  long,  shining,  heavy  tress 
over  the  white  arm,  from  which  the  open  sleeve 


62  i  INDSAT'S   LUOK. 

of  the  blue  drebsing-robe  fell  back,  and  she  looked 
at  the  shining  tress,  and  the  white  arm  approv 
ingly,  as  well  she  might. 

"  Why  ?  "  she  asked,  concisely. 

"  Because  he  is  honest,"  said  Blanche.  "  Be 
cause  he  believes  in  things ;  because  he  is  manly 
and  chivalrous.  Do  you  know,  Laura,  he  was 
honest  enough  to  tell  me  that  you  were  the  love 
liest  woman  he  had  ever  seen ;  and  he  said  it  as 
gravely  and  reverently  as  if  he  had  been  speak 
ing  of  his  own  mother." 

Lady  Laura  flushed  even  to  her  white  fore 
head. 

"  You  are  either  talking  nonsense,  Blanche," 
she  said,  "  or  I  can  tell  you  something  else  that 
I  think  of  Mr.  Lindsay." 

"  What  else  ?  "  asked  Blanche. 

"  That  he  is  very  insolent,"  was  the  reply. 

Blanche  merely  laughed  and  shrugged  her 
shoulders  again,  with  a  comical  little  grimace,  as 
she  answered  this  rather  intolerant  speech. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  53 

"I  don't  think  he  is,"  she  said,  practically. 
"  I  wish  he  had  said  it  of  me ;  or  I  wish  some 
body  else  had  said  it,  with  the  proviso  that  they 
had  said  it  just  as  he  did.  He  was  speaking  the 
truth,  and  one  hears  so  mfiny  white  fiH  in  these 
days,  that  the  truth  is  as  astounding  *s  it  is  re 
freshing." 

But  she  did  not  refer  to  Robert  Linds^v  again 
that  night.  Perhaps  she  thought  she  h#d  said 
enough ;  at  any  rate,  during  the  rest  oi  their 
conversation,  his  name  did  not  once  occur  ;  and 
when  she  rose  from  her  lounge  at  last,  to  sjo  to 
her  room,  they  had  wandered  so  far  from  Rtbert 
Lindsay  that  such  an  individual  might 
have  had  existence 


54  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

CHAPTER  in. 

ROSES    AND    THORNS. 

BEFORE  many  days  had  passed,  Lady  Laura 
found  room  for  more  than  temporary  in 
terest  or  temporary  annoyance.  She  found  room 
for  a  surprise,  which  became  in  a  short  space  of 
time  something  like  amazement.  She  would 
have  thought  very  little  of  Mr.  CharnleyY  guest 
after  the  first  evening  of  their  meeting,  had  she 
not  found  herself  compelled  to  think  of  him 
through  the  agency  of  a  rather  unexpected  fact, 
which  forced  herself  upon  her  notice.  This 
young  man  of  whom,  gentleman  as  he  was,  in 
her  calm,  intolerant  pride  she  had  thought  little 
more  than  of  one  of  her  guardian's  lackeys ; 
this  young  man,  whose  father  was  a  tradesman, 
and  whose  grandfather,  she  had  heard  Mr.  Cham- 
ley  say,  was  an  excellent  farmer;  this  young 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  65 

nan  was,  in  the  most  unprecedentedly  matter- 
of-fact  manner,  falling  into  the  same  position 
as  Geoffrey  Treherne  himself.  She  could  not 
understand  how  it  had  come  about,  and  far  less 
could  she  avoid  it ;  she  could  only  begin,  as  time 
progressed,  to  feel  that  it  was  so.  It  would  have 
been  the  most  impossible  of  tasks  to  repulse  him. 
His  genial,  hearty  nature  was  not  easily  chilled  ; 
and  even  Treherne  found  his  frigid  stateliness 
met  with  a  careless  gayety  that  perfectly  over 
whelmed  him.  Lindsay's  honest,  undisguised  ad 
miration  showed  itself  in  every  action,  and  Lady 
Laura  found  herself  sheerly  helpless  against  him. 
It  was  useless  to  endeavor  to  chill  him :  clearly 
he  was  determined  to  persevere,  in  sublime  disre 
gard  of  the  fact  that  Geoffrey  Treherne  and 
William  the  Conqueror  stood  between  him  and 
the  object  of  his  admiration.  He  cared  little  for 
Geoffrey  Treherne,  it  seemed,  and  less  for  William 
of  Normandy;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  his  persis 
tence,  he  was  never  intrusive.  And,  notwitbf 


66  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

standing  her  astonishment,  Laura  Tresham  cculd 
not  resist  wholly  a  slight  inclination  to  feel  inter 
ested  in  him  in  some  degree.  If  it  had  been 
easier  to  dislike  him,  she  would  have  felt  herself 
in  a  safer  position,  but  to  dislike  him  was  a  sheer 
impossibility.  She  had  tried  the  iciest  reserve, 
and  he  had  waited  patiently,  until  she  was  com 
pelled  to  thaw  into  at  least  a  reasonable  warmth; 
and  this  being  the  result  of  her  efforts,  good 
breeding  afforded  her  no  alternative;  and  yet 
ehe  was  not  quite  prepared  for  the  somewhat 
remarkable  sentiment  to  which  the  gentleman 
gave  utterance  upon  one  occasion. 

They  were  sitting  together  in  Mr.  Charnley's 
study,  one  evening,  when  the  conversation  turned 
incidentally  upon  a  certain  mesalliance  that  was 
the  subject  of  great  discussion  among  the  aris 
tocratic  dragons  of  Guestwick,  and  which  had 
caused  said  dragons  much  severe  contempt  and 
disapproval,  and  Mrs.  Charnley  was  echoing  the 
public  sentiment,  though,  of  course,  more  chari- 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  67 

tably  than  was  usual  with  the  dragons,  when  Rob 
Lindsay  (people  always  called  him  Bob,  he  said), 
spoke  up,  with  a  not  unbecoming  earnestness  of 
belief  in  what  he  was  saying. 

"  I  don't  think  I  agree  with  you,  Mrs.  Charn- 
ley,"  he  said.  When  a  man  loves  a  woman  hon 
estly,  he  forgets  everything  but  that  he  does  love 
her  honestly.  He  does  not  think  so  much  of  her 
superiority  or  inferiority  as  he  does  of  the  fact 
that  he  loves  her.  The  woman  I  marry,  were 
she  queen  or  empress,  will  be  to  me  simply  the 
woman  who  is  dearest  to  me  on  earth." 

Mrs.  Charnley  smiled,  but  Blanche,  who  had 
been  teasing  her  macaw,  as  it  swung  in  its  gilded 
cage  over  the  window-plants,  turned  round  and 
gave  him  a  long,  keen,  quiet  glance,  as  if  while 
measuring  his  strength,  she  found  the  result  satis 
factory.  Rob  Lindsay  had  advanced  in  her  good 
opinion  every  day,  though  she  rarely  mentioned 
him  to  Laura.  A  very  short  experience  had  con 
vinced  her  that  if  cool,  deliberate  determination 


58  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

was  of  any  avail,  Rob  Lindsay  needed  no  cham 
pionship,  and  was  surer  of  success  than  most 
men. 

Lady  Laura  herself  did  not  vouchsafe  him  a 
glance.  When  he  spoke,  she  was  taking  a  book 
from  the  library  shelves ;  and  when,  after  a  few 
minutes  she  replaced  it,  there  was  a  faint  glow 
of  unwilling  color  on  her  cheeks.  And  later 
that  very  evening  she  had  cause  for  still  greater 
and  more  indignant  bewilderment. 

She  had  been  out  in  the  morning,  making  calls 
with  Blanche,  and  upon  her  return  had  acciden 
tally  left  one  of  her  gloves  upon  a  table,  in  the 
parlor.  About  an  hour  after  the  discussion  in 
the  library,  she  remembered  the  mislaid  article, 
and  went  to  the  room  to  look  for  it,  and  as  she 
entered  her  eyes  fell  upon  'the  stalwart,  good- 
looking  figure  of  Rob  Lindsay,  who  was  stand 
ing  in  the  middle  of  the  apartment,  with  hia 
back  turned  toward  her.  He  did  not  hear  her 
entrance,  and  at  first  she  scarcely  comprehended 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK,  59 

nis  pre-occupation ;  but  the  next  instant,  a  glance 
at  the  pier-glass  opposite  to  him  revealed  to  her 
the  true  state  of  affairs.  He  held  her  lost  glove 
in  his  hand,  and  was  regarding  it  as  it  lay  upon 
his  palm  with  a  great  deal  of  quiet  admiration, 
and  before  she  had  time  to  speak,  he  had  compla 
cently  put  it  into  his  vest-pocket.  He  saw  her 
the  moment  after,  and  turned  toward  her  with  a 
coolness  and  freedom  from  embarrassment  that 
completely  overpowered  her,  and  rendered  her 
helpless,  notwithstanding  her  indignation.  He 
must  unavoidably  have  known  that  the  mirror 
had  reflected  everything  to  her,  and  yet  he  was 
as  placidly  self-contained  as  would  have  been 
possible  under  any  circumstances. 

"  I  actually  did  not  hear  you  come  into  the 
room,"  he  said,  with  audacious  cheerfulness. 

His  coolness  so  staggered  her,  that  for  an 
instant  she  only  looked  at  him  haughtily. 

"  I  left  one  of  my  gloves  here,  this  morning, 
Mr.  Lindsay,"  she  said  at  last,  "  and  I  came  to 


60  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

find  it  It  was  on  this  table,  near  Blanche's 
card-case,  I  believe.  It  was  a  mauve  glove,  with 
white  silk  tassels  ;  "  and  she  looked  at  him  with 
steady  scrutiny  that  should  have  abashed  him, 
but  which  to  her  astonishment  failed  to  do  so. 

He  turned  to  the  table,  as  cheerfully  as  ever, 
without  a  shadow  of  discomposure  in  his  manner. 

"It  doesn't  appear  to  be  here  now,"  he  said. 
"A  mauve  glove,  you  said,  with  white,  silk 
tassels.  I  believe  I  remember  noticing  it,  this 
morning,  as  being  a  very  pretty  glove.  It  would 
be  a  pity  to  lose  it." 

Lady  Laura  did  not  waste  time  in  any  further 
search.  The  ends  of  the  identical  white  silk 
tassels  were  at  that  moment  showing  themselves 
above  the  edge  of  the  pocket  of  his  vest,  and  he 
had  not  even  the  grace  to  blush,  while  he  was 
perfectly  conscious  of  the  fact  that  her  eyes 
were  resting  upon  this  final  touch  of  strong 
circumstantial  evidence. 

On  her  way  to  her  room,  Blanche  met  her 
upon  the  stair-case. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  61 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Laura  ?  "  she  asked. 
'*  Your  eyes  look  positively  dangerous  I  What 
is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  young  lady,  briefly.  "  I 
have  been  looking  for  my  glove,  and  —  and  —  I 
haven't  found  it.  Don't  keep  Mr.  Lindsay  wait 
ing,  Blanche.  I  shall  not  have  time  to  join  you 
at  present,  and  you  know  he  promised  to  give 
you  another  archery  lesson." 

Blanche  ran  down  stairs,  with  a  glimmer  of 
suppressed  fun  in  her  eyes,  and,  when  she  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  stair-case,  she  found  Robert 
Lindsay  at  the  hall-door,  looking  out  upon  the 
lawn  with  a  most  untranslatable  smile.  It  was  a 
calm  smile,  and  a  baffling  one,  and  not  at  all  an 
unsatisfied  smile,  in  its  way;  and  it  was  on  the 
cheerful,  handsome  face,  even  after  half  an  nour 
spent  in  the  archery-ground.  Then,  after  mak 
ing  several  very  bad  aims  at  the  target,  Blanche 
set  another  arrow,  and  drew  her  bow  with  most 
delicate  precision 


62  LINDSAY'S  LUCK, 

"  And  so  Laura  couldn't  find  her  glove,  Mr. 
Lindsay,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Lindsay  looked  with  great  complacency 
first  at  the  aim  his  pupil  was  taking,  and  then  at 
his  pupil's  pretty  face. 

"  Why,  no  ! "  he  said,  regretfully.  "  I  believe 
she  did  not.  And  it  was  a  pity,  too,  you  know, 
because  it  was  such  a  very  pretty  glove.  A  little 
mauve  affair,  with  white  silk  tassels,  and  a 
delicious,  little,  delicate  dead  ghost  of  a  perfume 
about  it." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Miss  Charnley,  sagaciously. 
"I  know  the  glove.  Laura  always  does  wear 
pretty  gloves,  and—  There,  Mr.  Lindsay,"  as 
the  little,  white-winged  arrow  whizzed  away,, 
"  Right  in  the  centre  of  the  target." 

"In  the  very  centre,"  replied  the  immovable 
Rob.  "And  it  is  what  I  should  call  a  very 
excellent  aim  too,  Miss  Blanche." 

For  the  next  day  or  so  Mr.  Rob  Lindsay 
encountered  some  rather  rough  sailing,  if  so 


LINDSAY    S     LUCK.  63 

indefinite  a  term,  may  be  employed.  In  Laura 
Tresham's  creed,  presumption  was  the  sin  unpar 
donable  ;  and  Robert  Lindsay  had  been  guilty  of 
an  act  of  presumption,  which  had  no  equal  in 
her  experience.  If  he  had  shown  the  slightest 
shadow  of  embarrassment,  or  the  slightest  touch 
of  penitential  regret,  she  might  have  found  it 
possible  to  vouchsafe  him  a  haughty  pardon ;  but 
as  it  was,  his  immovable  composure  baffled  her 
terribly.  As  far  as  was  possible,  without  causing 
remark,  she  had  held  herself  aloof  from  him, 
scarcely  deigning  him  a  word  or  glance ;  but  it 
had  not  produced  the  effect  she  desired.  He  did 
not  intrude  himself  upon  her,  but  he  certainly 
did  not  avoid  her.  He  was  as  gay  and  good- 
humored  as  ever,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  himself  as 
thoroughly.  The  Reverend  Norman  was  very 
fond  of  him,  and  with  Mrs.  Charnley  he  was  as 
great  a  favorite  as  Lady  Laura.  In  his  good 
nature,  his  good  spirits,  his  boyish  daring,  and 
his  almost  affectionate  warmth  of  manner,  were 


64  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

combined  all  the  most  desirable  characteristics  of 
a  favorite  son ;  and  Mrs.  Charnley,  with  true 
motherly  recollection  of  the  Ralph  of  whom 
Blanche  had  spoken,  and  who  was  the  only  sou 
of  the  house  of  Charnley,  regarded  this  brave, 
high-spirited,  dashing  young  fellow,  with  some 
thing  of  a  motherly  affection.  Accordingly,  she 
wondered  somewhat  at  Lady  Laura's  cold  recep 
tion  of  her  eulogistic  speeches,  but  Blanche 
understood  the  matter  pretty  clearly.  Laura  no 
longer  avoided  mentioning  Rob  Lindsay.  In 
their  nightly  discussions  she  spoke  of  him  with 
cutting  sarcasms.  She  laughed  at  him,  and 
sneered  with  extraordinary  aptness  at  his  uncon 
ventional  frankness  and  warmth  of  manner ;  and 
certainly  poor  Rob  had  never  met  with  more 
severity  than  he  sometimes  met  with  in  the 
bright  little  dressing-room.  Still  he  seemed  to 
sustain  himself  through  it  all  with  wonderful 
cheerfulness.  Even  when  he  had  been  most 
cuttingly  satirized,  and  when  his  pleasant  speeches 


LINDSAY    S     LUCK.  65 

were  received  with  the  most  frigid  hauteur,  he 
appeared  to  make  himself  most  thoroughly  com 
fortable.  He  drove  the  little  pony-carriage  for 
Mrs.  Charnley  when  she  wanted  to  make  her 
charitable  rounds ;  he  arranged  her  foot-stool  for 
her  when  she  was  tired ;  he  had  ridden  over  to 
Guestwick  and  matched  Berlin  wools  for  Blanche 
to  a  shade;  he  had  rendered  himself  popular 
with  every  one,  and  even  the  dullest,  longest 
lays  were  made  cheerful  by  his  indefatigable 
good-humor.  Taking  all  this  into  consideration, 
it  is  easy  to  see  that  Lady  Laura's  task  was  a 
difficult  one.  It  was  difficult  to  satirize  him  to 
Blanche  as  mercilessly  as  she  felt  inclined ;  and, 
of  course,  it  was  impossible  to  satirize  him  openly. 
Aiid  besides,  it  appeared  quite  probable  that  even 
under  such  circumstances,  he  would  have  encoun 
tered  the  satire  as  he  encountered  every  other 
weapon.  So  she  found  herself  compelled,  much 
against  her  will,  to  submit  to  the  sheer  force  of 
circumstances. 
4 


66  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

After  the  advent  of  the  new  arrival,  Col. 
Treherne's  visits  became  even  more  frequent 
than  they  had  been  before.  Perhaps,  notwith 
standing  his  self-consciouness,  he  had  been  quick- 
sighted  enough  to  see  a  dangerous  rival  in  a  man 
who  was  generous,  imperturbable,  and  physically 
beautiful  in  no  slight  degree,  in  grand  defiance 
of  his  lack  of  pedigree.  Women  were  subject 
to  whimsical  fancies  after  all,  and  even  such  a 
woman  as  Laura  Tresham,  with  all  her  inborn 
prejudice  and  pride,  might  be  influenced  by  such 
a  man's  persistence,  if  persistent  he  should  pre 
sume  to  be.  And  in  her  secret  resentment  against 
Rob,  Laura  was  more  cordial  in  her  reception  of 
Treherne's  advances  than  she  would  otherwise 
have  been.  She  was  more  chary  of  her  smiles, 
less  inclined  to  reserve,  and  altogether  more 
encouraging.  But  Geoffrey  Treherne  simply 
regarded  this  as  the  very  natural  result  of  his 
attentions.  It  was,  of  course,  not  likely,  after 
•11,  that  any  rival  should  be  successful  against 


LINDSAY'S    ^UCK.  67 


him,  when  it  came  to  action  ;  and  yet,  notwith 
standing  his  certainty  upon  the  subject,  he  felt 
more  at  ease  when  he  found  that  his  influence 
did  not  appear  to  be  at  all  lessened,  and  in  his 
security  he  forgot  something  of  his  hauteur,  and 
was  more  condescendingly  familiar  in  his  manner 
toward  the  object  of  his  former  distaste. 

"  This  American  seems  to  be  a  gentlemanly 
sort  of  young  fellow,"  he  said,  graciously,  one 
day  to  Blanche.  "  Not  highly  polished,  of  course, 
but  good-natured  enough,  at  all  events,  I  think." 

It  so  happened  that  this  morning  he  had  called 
earlier  than  usual,  and  had  found  Blanche  and 
her  friend  in  the  garden,  with  Rob,  who  was 
giving  them  the  benefit  of  his  floral  experience  \ 
and  Blanche  in  gloves  and  a  neat  little  garden- 
blouse,  was  trimming  one  or  two  of  her  favorite 
rose-bushes  with  a  pair  of  keen  little  scissors. 
She  was  snipping  away  the  dead  leaves  in  a  most 
scientific  manner,  when  her  companion  vouch 
safed  this  condescending  patronage  of  her  favor- 


00  LINDSAY   S    LUCK. 

ite ;  and  she  went  on  snipping  like  a  very  charm* 
ing  picture  of  unconscious  innocence,  as  she 
made  her  reply. 

"  Now  do  you  really,  Col.  Treherne  ?  "  she  said, 
"How  very  kind  in  you  to  say  so.  This  is  a 
pretty  rose,  isn't  it?  And  how  delighted  — " 
Snip,  snip,  snip  —  "Mr.  Lindsay  would  be  if  I 
were  to  tell  him.  Don't  you  think  so  ?" 

Treherne  looked  down  at  her  with  reflective 
uneasiness.  Her  pretty  little  straw  hat  hid  her 
bent  face  from  him,  and  the  scissors  in  the  small 
gloved  hands  were  very  busy ;  but  he  was  by  no 
means  a  dullard,  in  spite  of  his  arrogance,  and 
he  felt  an  uncomfortable  sense  of  the  fact  that 
Miss  Blanche  Charnley  was  satirizing  him  rather 
cuttingly,  and  added  to  this,  was  an  equally 
unpleasant  consciousness  that  he  had  made  him 
self  slightly  ridiculous. 

"Pray,  excuse  me,"  he  began  stiffly.  "I  wa§ 
not  aware  that  my  words  could  contain  any 
offence." 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  69 

"  Ok,  dear,  no ! "  replied  Blanche,  with  much 
delightful  simplicity.  "  Of  course  not.  How 
could  they  ?  You  see  these  sort  of  people  are 
not  like  we  are.  I  dare  say  it  is  very  likely  that 
they  don't  sneer  at  our  pretensions.  And  of 
course,  Mr.  Lindsay  ought  to  be  much  obliged  to 
you  for  your  good  opinion ;  and  if  he  wasn't,  it 
would  be  very  ungrateful  on  his  part.  But  then 
do  you  know,  Col.  Treherne,  I  really  don't  believe, 
taking  all  things  into  consideration,  that  I  would 
patronize  him  more  than  was  absolutely  unavoid 
able.  It  might  interfere  with  his  natural  feeling 
of  deference,  you  see." 

It  was  rather  severe  upon  Treherne ;  perhaps, 
a  little  too  severe,  upon  the  whole ;  but  Blanche 
Charnley  was  apt  to  be  severe,  occasionally ;  and 
she  had  been  wondering  for  some  time  if  a  quiet, 
suggestive  lesson  might  not  prove  beneficial. 
Her  sense  of  the  ridiculous  made  her  keenly 
alive  to  Geoffrey  Treherne' s  peculiarities,  and 
besides,  she  was  a  little  out  of  patience  with 


70  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Laura ;  so  she  went  on  to  her  next  rose-bush  in 
the  significant  silence  that  followed,  with  a  quiet 
consciousness  of  the  fact  that  she  had  at  least 
made  a  telling  shot. 

There  was  a  sort  of  uneasiness  in  Treherne's 
manner  during  the  remainder  of  his  visit.  He 
did  not  like  Blanche  Charnley  very  much,  but 
he  had  a  true  English  horror  of  making  himself 
absurd ;  and  the  idea  of  having  appeared  absurd 
to  Robert  Lindsay,  was  particularly  distasteful  to 
him.  Satirical  as  Blanche's  speech  had  been,  it 
had  suddenly  presented  a  new  idea  to  his  mind. 
Was  it  possible  that  this  young  fellow  was  quicker 
sighted  than  his  careless  gayety  had  led  him  to 
imagine  ?  Once  or  twice  he  had  fancied  that  he 
detected  a  thread  of  Blanche  Charnley's  keen- 
edge  sarcasm  in  his  quietly  daring  speeches. 

These  thoughts  were  very  busy  in  his  mind, 
when,  the  young  ladies  having  gone  to  change 
their  gardening  dresses,  he  found  himself  prome 
nading  one  of  the  terraces  with  the  cause  of  his 
lute  annoyance. 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.       71 
CHAPTER  IV. 

THE     DEBATABLE     GIFT. 

TREHERNE  and  Lindsay  had  been  walking 
to  and  fro  for  some  minutes  in  silence,  but 
at  length  it  was  broken  by  Lindsay  himself. 

tl  I  have  some  excellent '  weeds '  in  my  pocket, 
Treherne,"  he  said.  "Allow  me  to  offer  you 
one.  I  brought  them  from  Cuba  myself." 

It  was  a  very  pretty  bead-embroidered  cigar- 
case  that  he  produced,  and  the  cigar  Geoffrey 
Treherne  accepted  was  the  rarest  and  most  fra 
grant  of  its  kind;  but  he  scarcely  looked  at 
either  cigar-case  or  cigar,  after  his  first  word  of 
thanks;  his  eyes  had  fallen  upon  something 
Lindsay  had  drawn  from  his  pocket  accidentally, 
and  which  had  dropped  upon  the  terrace  near 
one  of  the  young  man's  shapely  feet;  a  very 
email  article  after  all,  but  it  had  attracted  Tre- 


72  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

herne's  attention  in  one  instant.     It  was  a  pretty 
mauve  glove  with  white  silk  tassels. 

The  next  minute  Lindsay  saw  it  too,  and 
stooped  to  pick  it  up  with  the  most  collected  of 
quiet  faces. 

"  I  think  I  have  seen  that  glove  before,"  said 
Treherne,  stiffly,  "  or  am  I  mistaken  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,"  returned  Rob,  good-humoredly. 
"I  don't  think  you  are  mistaken.  It  is  quite 
possible  you  have  seen  it  before,  I  dare  say 
Won't  you  have  a  light  ?  " 

With  the  utmost  composure,  he  had  returned 
it  to  his  pocket,  and  brought  out  a  box  of  fuses, 
and  having  handed  them  to  his  companion  he 
stopped  his  walk  for  a  moment,  to  light  his  own 
cigar. 

"I  imagined  I  had  seen  Lady  Laura  wearing 
it,"  said  Treherne,  helplessly.  He  was  in  a  fever 
of  impatience,  and  could  scarcely  govern  hnn- 
eelf. 

"  Possibly,"  said  Rob,  puffing.     "  The  fact  ia, 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  73 

it  did  belong  to  Lady  Laura,"  with  intermediate 
puffs. 

"  Then  you  are  a  very  fortunate  individual," 
commented  Treherne,  frigidly. 

Rob  tcok  his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  looked  at 
its  glowing  end  for  a  moment,  and  then  tossed 
his  spent  fuse  away,  looking  as  undiscomfited  as 
ever,  which  was  really  very  trying  to  his  com 
panion. 

"No,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  can't  say  that  I  am 
very  fortunate,  Treherne ;  sometimes  I  am  almost 
inclined  to  think  that  I  am  rather  unfortunate. 
Of  course,  Lady  Laura  did  not  give  me  her 
glove ;  and,  of  course,  I  am  not  such  a  vaunting 
idiot  as  to  pretend  that  she  did.  Neither  am  I 
such  an  idiot  as  to  imagine  that  she  would  have 
given  it  to  me  if  I  had  asked  her.  I  found  the 
glove  and  I  kept  it.  It  is  a  pretty  glove,  and 
the  woman  I  love  has  worn  it,  and,  though  it  may 
not  be  a  great  loss  to  her,  it  is  a  great  gain  to 
me.  I  like  to  carry  it  about  with  me,  anrl  look 


74  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

at  it  sometimes,  and  that  is  how  it  fell  from  my 
pocket.  I  should  not  have  mentioned  it  if  you 
had  not  seen  it ;  and  I  should  not  have  mentioned 
it,  if  I  had  not  wished  it  to  be  impossible  for  you 
to  misunderstand  Laura  Tresham.  Good  cigars, 
these,  ain't  they?" 

Treherne's  reply  was  a  somewhat  incoherent 
one.  In  fact  he  had  never  been  so  utterly  taken 
aback  in  his  life.  There  was  a  coolness  about 
this  young  man's  manner,  that  was  altogether 
too  much  for  him.  Treherne  was  determined  to 
sift  the  matter  as  early  as  possible,  and  in  his 
anxiety  to  sift  it,  he  did  a  rather  unwise  thing. 
When  Lady  Laura  came  back  again,  he  found 
himself  alone  with  her  for  a  moment ;  he  brought 
the  conversation  somewhat  abruptly  to  bear  upon 
the  subject  most  important  to  his  ease  of  mind. 

"  This  Japanese  lily  is  a  great  favorite  of 
Blanche's,"  said  Lady  Laura,  tranquilly,  as  she 
bent  over  a  flower ;  "  and  Mr.  Lindsay  says  —  " 

"Our   eccentric   friend   seams   to  be  a  great 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  76 

favorite,'  interposed  Treheme,  in  his  secret  anx 
iety.  "I  wonder  if  you  are  aware  that  he 
carries  one  of  your  gloves  in  his  pocket,  Lady 
Laura  ?  " 

A  sudden  pink  flush  flooded  Lady  Laura's  bent 
face  in  an  instant,  even  touching  the  light  waves 
of  hair  upon  the  white,  low  brow,  and  sweeping 
over  the  slender  throat.  Her  confusion  was  so 
evident  that  Treherne  found  himself  becoming 
slightly  confused  also,  and  feeling  more  awkward 
than  he  had  anticipated,  and  accordingly  his  next 
speech  was  an  unfortunate  one. 

"  He  was  good  enough  to  explain  to  me,"  he 
said,  "  that  you  had  no  knowledge  of  the  fact  of 
his  having  it  in  his  possession.  He  had  found 
the  glove,  he  said,  and  kept  it." 

Lady  Laura  interrupted  him,  a  curious  little 
tremor  stirring  the  folds  of  muslin  over  her  neck, 
a  curious,  dangerous  glow  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  ask  pardon,  Col.  Treherne,"  she  said ;  "  but 
may  I  inquire  if  you  really  felt  it  was  necessary 


76  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

to  catechise  Mr.  Lindsay  concerning  the  manner 
of  his  obtaining  possession  of  my  glove  ?  " 

Treherne  was  dumbfounded.  For  some  reason 
appearing  inexplicable  to  him,  the  young  lady 
was  evidently  annoyed  in  no  slight  measure. 
He  did  not  understand  that  the  very  pride  he 
had  admired  as  mating  so  well  with  his  own,  had 
arrayed  itself  against  him. 

"I  am  bound  to  say,"  he  explained  loftily, 
"  that  there  was  no  necessity  for  so  doing.  Mr. 
Lindsay  was  honest  enough  to  be  desirous  of 
making  sure  that  there  could  be  no  misunder 
standing." 

"He  was  very  kind,"  replied  Lady  Laura, 
now  feeling  inconsistently  severe  against  the 
delinquent.  "Very  kind,  indeed;  but  he  was 
mistaken  in  saying  I  did  not  know  he  had  the 
glove.  I  saw  him  take  it."  With  that  she 
turned  away. 

Through  his  intense  discomfiture,  Col.  Treherne 
left  the  Priory  earlier  than  was  customary  with 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  77 

him ;  and  it  was  after  he  had  gone,  that  Rob 
Lindsay,  sauntering  into  the  drawing-room,  found 
Lady  Laura  there,  and  was  addressed  by  that 
young  lady  in  a  very  decided  manner. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  here,  Mr.  Lindsay,"  she 
said  to  him.  "  I  have  just  been  wishing  to  see 
you.  Col.  Treherne  tells  me  that  you  found  the 
glove  I  lost,  and  —  and  that,  in  fact,  you  showed 
it  to  him  a  short  time  ago."  This  last  artful 
touch  as  punishment  beforehand. 

For  the  first  time  in  the  course  of  her  acquain 
tance  with  Mr.  Rob  Lindsay,  Lady  Laura  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  him  blush.  The  color  ran  up 
to  the  roots  of  his  curly-brown  hair ;  but  it  was 
not  a  blush  of  embarrassment.  It  was  clearly  a 
flush  of  high,  uncontrollable  indignation. 

He  walked  deliberately  to  the  bay-window. 

"I  ask  pardon,  Lady  Laura,"  he  said,  with 
startling  warmth.  "  But  may  I  ask  if  Col.  Tre 
herne  said  that  I  had  exhibited  your  glove  to 
him?" 


78  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

The  sudden  change  from  his  usual  careless 
gayety  to  this  somewhat  foreboding  frankness  of 
demeanor  frightened  her  fair  young  ladyship, 
in  spite  of  herself.  She  actually  felt  herself  on 
the  brink  of  being  most  ignominiously  defea'^d, 
and  Rob  Lindsay,  waiting  for  a  reply,  saw  the 
blue-velvet  eyes  that  matched  the  blue-velvet 
ribbons,  change  their  expression  curiously. 

"  No,"  faltered  the  young  lady.  "  He  merely 
said  that  —  that  he  had  seen  it." 

Rob  s  knitted  forehead  smoothed  slightly. 

"  Oh ! "  he  said,  more  coolly.  That  is  a  dif 
ferent  matter,  you  see.  I  am  rather  glad  to  hear 
it,  too,  because  if  it  had  been  otherwise,  I  should 
have  been  compelled  to  say  that  Col.  Treherne 
had  not  adhered  strictly  to  the  truth.  I  did  not 
show  Col.  Treherne  your  glove,  Lady  Laura.  It 
dropped  out  of  my  pocket  accidentally,  and  he 
saw  it,  and  I  —  Well,  I  spoke  the  truth  about 
it." 

He  had  never  looked  better  in  his  life  than  he 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  79 

did  when  he  finished  saying  this,  and  leaned 
against  the  side  of  the  bay-window,  looking 
down  at  her  with  a  spark  of  the  fire  which  had 
not  quite  died  out  in  his  brown  eyes.  He  saw 
that  he  had  startled  her  a  little,  and,  despite  his 
smouldering  wrath,  he  was  tenderly  sorry  for  it. 
He  was  not  the  man  to  feel  he  had  frightened 
a  woman  ever  so  slightly  by  any  thoughtless 
warmth  of  speech,  without  a  chivalrous  regret. 

"  You  must  excuse  my  seeming  abruptness, 
Lady  Laura,"  he  said,  in  his  good-natured,  frank 
fashion.  "  I  misunderstood  you  at  first,  and  if 
Treherne  had  really  given  you  the  impression 
that  I  had  boasted  of  my  luck  in  finding  the 
glove,  he  would  have  given  you  a  false  impres 
sion,  and  one  which  must  necessarily  have  made 
me  appear  contemptible  in  your  eyes,  and  I 
could  not  stand  thai,  you  know." 

"  I  cannot  understand,"  said  Lady  Laura,  her 
attempt  at  making  a  strong  point  a  terrible  fail 
ure.  "  I  really  cannot  understand  why  you  took 


80  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

the  glove  in  the  first  place.  It  was  very  absurd, 
and  you  must  know  that  —  that  it  made  me 
appear  very  absurd,  too." 

"  Absurd !  "  said  Rob.  "  In  whose  eyes,  Lady 
Uura?" 

"  In  my  own,"  she  faltered,  coloring  until  she 
looked  like  one  of  Blanche's  pink  verbenas. 
"In  Col.  Treherne's,  and  —  and  in  yours."  Thia 
last  with  great  weakness. 

"Not  in  mine,"  said  Rob,  exhibiting  great 
cheerfulness.  "  Don't  say  that,  if  you  please." 

"But  I  mean  it,"  returned  Laura,  breaking 
off  a  rose  geranium-leaf,  and  trying  to  regain 
her  coldness  of  manner.  "  You  have  made  me 
feel  absurd,  at  least,  to  have  placed  me  in  a  very 
annoying  position,  Mr.  Lindsay.  Why,  it  ia 
impossible  for  me  to  understand." 

Rob  looked  down  again  for  a  moment,  with  a 
meditative  air,  at  the  averted  face,  and  the  white 
hand  toying  nervously  with  the  geranium-leaf, 
and  then  he  turned  his  eyes  away  toward  the 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  81 

garden,  and,  forgetting  himself  for  the  time 
being,  fii-st  whistled  softly,  and  then  stopped. 

"  Ah  !     Why,  indeed !  "  he  said. 

Having  crushed  the  perfume  out  of  one  leaf, 
Lady  Laura  threw  it  away,  and  took  another, 
and  began  again,  utterly  ignoring  both  whistle 
and  exclamation. 

"  Having  subjected  me  to  this  annoyance,  you 
subject  me  to  still  another,"  she  said,  "  the  annoy 
ance  of  asking  you  to  return  the  glove  to  me." 

Rob's  countenance  fell  somewhat, 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  have  subjected  you  to  any 
annoyance,"  he  said,  with  honest  penitence. 
"  Very  .sorry,  Lady  Laura ;  but  I  believe  I  am 
quite  as  sorry  to  hear  you  say  you  want  your 
glove  again.  Of  course,  you  don't  care  for  any 
reasons  I  may  have  for  wishing  to  keep  it.  It  is 
a  little  thing  to  you,  and  you  can  afford  to  ignore 
it  as  you  do,  but  —  " 

"I  was  not  aware  that  I  ignored  anything," 
interposed  Laura,  inconsistently. 


82  LINDSAY'S   LUCK 

Rob  went  on  calmly. 

"  But  I  can  assure  you  it  is  a  matter  of  more 
importance  to  me.  But  that  doesn't  matter, 
does  it?'' 

He  stopped  here,  and  drew  the  glove  from  his 
pocket ;  but  he  did  not  offer  it  to  her  at  once. 
He  held  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked  at  it  a  little 
regretfully  and  sadly. 

"A  very  little  thing  to  ask  for,"  he  said. 
"  And  a  very  little  thing  to  prize,  it  might  seem ; 
but  I  prize  it,  nevertheless.  A  very  little  thing 
to  be  refused,  too  —  is  it  not,  af tet  all  ?  But  as  I 
suppose  Treherne  has  a  greater  right  to  it  than 
I,  why,  here  it  is,  Lady  Laura ; "  and  he  laid  it 
upon  the  little  work-table  of  Blanche's,  which 
stood  between  them,  therein  exhibiting  more 
discretion  and  diplomacy  than  one  would  have 
expected  of  so  frank  a  young  man. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  this  unconventional 
Rob's  great  physical  beauty,  and  of  the  effect  it 
was  apt  to  produce  in  the  way  of  softening  peo- 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  83 

pie's  hearts  toward  him ;  so  you  will  not  be 
surprised  at  being  told  Laura  Tresham  was  soft 
ened  a  little.  This  momentary  look  of  regretful- 
ness  was  very  becoming  to  him  withal,  and  he 
had  been  straightforward  and  regardful  for  her, 
at  least.  And  then  a  half-worn  glove  was  such  a 
little  thing,  and  then  —  Well,  she  looked  up  at 
his  handsome  brown  face,  and  his  handsome 
brown  eyes,  and  relented  somewhat.  Besides, 
had  he  not  intimated  that  his  rival  had  a  right, 
which  that  rival  had  not  ? 

So  the  glove  lay  untouched  upon  the  table. 

"  Col.  Treherne  has  no  right  to  it,"  she  said, 
with  some  degree  of  hauteur.  "  He  has  no  right 
that  you  or  any  other  friend  of  mine  has  not." 

"  Friend  ?  "  was  Rob's  quiet  echo. 
,     "  I  believe  I  said  friend,"  she  answered. 

But  she  did  not  attempt  to  take  the  glove,  and, 
when  a  few  minutes  later,  Blanche  called  to  her 
from  the  garden,  she  turned  to  obey  the  sum 
mons  as  though  she  had  forgotten  it ;  and  when 


84  LINDSAY    S     LUCK. 

Rob  drew  her  attention  to  it,  she  paused  a 
moment,  hesitating. 

"It  is  of  no  value  to  me,"  she  said,  carelessly, 
at  length.  "  I  don't  know  where  its  fellow  is, 
and  I  should  not  wear  it  if  I  did.  If  you  wish 
to  keep  it,  you  may,  since  perhaps  that  will 
prove  to  you  that  no  one  has  a  right  to  dispose 
of  it  but  myself." 

Rob  took  the  glove  in  his  hand,  swinging  it 
lightly  by  its  silken  tassels,  his  comely  face 
brightening. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said.  "  I  do  want  it,  and  I 
suppose  the  speech  I  am  going  to  make  is  rather 
an  audacious  one,  but  I  can  scarcely  help  making 
it,  notwithstanding.  The  fact  is,  Lady  Laura,  1 
should  not  like  to  feel  that  the  annoyance  I  have 
caused  you  has  forced  from  you  the  gift  I  value 
so  highly." 

"  It  is  certainly  not  a  matter  of  compulsion," 
she  said  briefly.  "  You  wished  to  have  the  glove, 
and  I  gave  it  to  you." 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  85 

"Thank  you  again,"  answered  Rob,  all  the 
cheerfulness  in  the  world  expressing  itself  in  his 
composure  of  manner. 

And  as  Lady  Laura  left  the  room,  the  mauve 
glove,  for  which  Geoffrey  Treherne  would  have 
given  something  very  considerable,  was  quietly 
replaced  in  the  pocket  from  which,  to  Geoffrey 
Treherne's  blank  amazement,  it  had  dropped  a 
few  hours  before. 


86  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

CHAPTER  V. 

NEW     ARRIVALS. 

WITH  trie  feminine  inconsistency,  almost 
before  she  had  reached  Blanche,  Lady 
Laura  had  repented  her  impulse  of  generosity 
somewhat.  Notwithstanding  the  malicious  turn 
of  Fortune's  wheel  against  him,  Geoffrey  Tre- 
herne  had  by  no  means  wholly  lost  his  power 
over  her,  and  her  inward  conjectures  as  to  what 
his  exact  opinions  would  be  if  he  knew  the  truth, 
made  her  feel  slightly  conscience-stricken.  She 
could  not  altogether  resist  the  idea  that  if  chance 
should  reveal  to  him  this  little  incident  as  it  had 
revealed  to  him  the  other,  the  result  would  be 
the  very  natural  one  of  some  slight  embarrass 
ment  being  entailed  upon  her,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  she  had  Teft  him  to  draw  his  own 
conclusions  on  the  subject  but  a  short  time  before- 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  87 

But  then  she  had  been  very  securely  innocent, 
and  now  —  was  she  ?  Was  she  as  securely  inno 
cent,  regarding  Mr.  Lindsay  himself?  Had  she 
been  very  secure  when  she  had  looked  up  at  his 
honest,  indignant  face  with  that  little  guilty  thrill 
of  fear  and  admiration  ?  She  had  tried  to  believe 
at  the  time  that  it  was  only  a  thrill  of  surprise, 
having  its  foundation  in  the  sudden  knowledge 
that  this  immovable  person  could  flash  into  such 
becoming  wrath;  but  it  did  not  require  many 
moments'  consideration  to  force  upon  her  that  it 
was  a  guilty  thrill,  and  had  held  its  own  un 
pleasant  significance.  She  remembered,  too,  un 
willingly,  times  when  Robert  Lindsay's  straight 
forward  speeches,  and  practical,  frank  ways,  had 
given  her  somewhat  of  the  same  thrill  before; 
and  when,  by  contrast  with  other  men  she  knew, 
and  had  in  some  sort  admired  a  little,  he  had 
seemed  worthy  of  any  woman's  respect  and 
friendship ;  yes,  even  worthy  of  the  love  of  any 
woman  who  was  endowed  with  a  woman's  natural 


88  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

love  of  fearlessness  and  honesty.  But  then  it 
would  never  do  to  encourage  Robert  Lindsay, 
nevertheless.  The  fact  is,  that,  stately  as  she 
was  in  her  girlish  way,  Lady  Laura  Treshain  was 
a  terrible  beautiful  coward,  and  in  her  mind 
there  was  a  very  natural  awe  of  the  weighty 
individual  who  was  something  stupendous  in 
Chancery.  She  had  stood  in  awe  of  this  gentle 
man  from  the  first  hour  of  her  wardship,  and 
even  now,  in  her  young  ladyhood,  she  was  as 
much  afraid  of  him  as  ever.  She  had  heard  him 
discourse  with  stupendous  solidity  of  eloquence 
upon  William  the  Conqueror,  and  the  barriers 
of  society,  and  the  stately  obligations  under 
which  the  unfortunate  descendants  of  William 
the  Conqueror  and  his  court  had  been  placed  by 
those  august  personages  having  condescended  to 
be  born,  and  live,  and  "  come  over  "  and  establish 
a  somewhat  intrusive  authority  over  unborn 
generations.  Lady  Laura's  guardian  held  as  a 
religious  creed,  to  be  religiously  sustained,  thai 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  89 

the  circumstance  of  a  stately -bearing  Norman 
noble,  having  been  called  Basil  de  Tresham, 
entailed  upon  this  blue,  velvetreyed,  golden- 
haired  young  lady,  descended  from  him,  the 
necessity  of  being  solidly  majestic  also;  and  that 
all  this  blue,  velvet-eyed,  golden-haired  young 
lady's  little  secret,  tender  prejudices,  must  be 
crushed  under  the  brazen  idol  of  her  name's 
antiquity.  So,  with  her  guardian  and  the  brazen 
idol  constantly  before  her  as  models,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  Lady  Laura  had  innocently  fallen 
into  a  groove  of  opinion  not  unlike  them,  unless 
in  its  being  softened  and  made  prettier  by  the 
fanciful  form  it  adopted.  But,  nevertheless,  she 
had  been  rather  tired  of  William  of  Normandy, 
and  Basil  de  Tresham,  sometimes.  Now  and 
then  her  guardian  had  tired  her,  and  now  and 
then  she  had  been  tired  of  his  aristocratic  eligi- 
bles,  when  they  appeared  (as  they  not  unfre- 
quently  did)  in  the  form  of  languid  dandies,  who 
wore  faultless  dress-coats,  and  neck-ties,  and 


90  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

gloves,  and  parted  their  hair  in  the  middle,  and 
were  loftily  conscious  of  their  families  belonging 
to  the  peerage,  and  their  rent-rolls  representing 
themselves  through  the  medium  of  a  respectable 
row  of  figures.  But  she  had  never  been  tired  of 
Rob  Lindsay.  The  young  man  had  a  very  simple 
way  of  accounting  for  himself,  and  was  very 
practically  straightforward  in  his  assertions  that 
Jie  had  nothing  to  boast  of  in  the  matter  of  pedi 
gree. 

"  You  see,"  he  had  said,  on  their  first  discus 
sion  of  the  subject,  "it  cannot  possibly  matter 
to  one  now,  as  I  understand  it,  whether  the 
founder  of  the  family  (that 's  what  you  call  it, 
isn't  it  ?)  was  an  illustrious  individual  or  a  plow 
man  who  bought  his  bread  and  cheese  with  six 
pence  a  day.  The  family  was  founded,  you 
know,  and  the  man 's  dead,  and  this  generation 
has  arrived  at  —  Robert  Lindsay ;  and  with  Rob 
ert  Lindsay  lies  the  rest,  honor  or  dishonor, 
it  really  seems  to  me,  Mrs.  Charnley,  and 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  91 

Miss  Blanche,  that  the  settling  of  such  a  ques 
tion  rightly  has  nobility  enough  in  it,  without 
troubling  oneself  about  a  man  who  has  moul 
dered  centuries  ago,  and  who  was  not  to  be 
blamed  or  praised  for  either  the  sixpence  or  the 
bread  and  cheese,  or  on  the  other  hand,  for  the 
series  of  lucky  accidents  that  made  him  a  baron. 
Many  as  good  a  man  as  the  first  Plantagenet 
followed  the  plow  till  the  day  of  his  death,  who 
would  have  been  as  great  as  Geoffrey,  if  he  had 
found  the  same  chance." 

Thus  had  Mr.  Robert  Lindsay  expressed  him 
self,  and  thus  had  Lady  Laura  heard  him,  with 
a  sense  of  recognizing  a  fresh  and  not  unpleasant 
novelty  in  the  speech,  despite  its  rank  heresy. 
Still  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  even  such 
honest  observations  as  these  could  overcome  the 
prejudices  of  a  lifetime  at  once.  But  they  had 
impressed  Lady  Laura  through  all  her  girlish 
pride  in  name  and  birth ;  and  this  day  her 
remembrance  of  them  made  her  feel  like  a  young 


92  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

lady  who  had  been  self-convicted  of  heresy  and 
falseness  to  the  inherited  creed  of  her  forefathers. 
So,  feeling  after  this  manner  she  repented  hei 
generosity,  and  as  the  tide  of  her  thoughts 
turned,  blamed  Rob  Lindsay  for  both  generosity 
and  repentance,  which  was  unjust,  to  say  the 
least  of  it.  She  made  up  her  mind  during  the 
day's  uneasiness  that  followed,  that  from  this 
time  forward  Mr.  Robert  Lindsay  must  really  be 
effectually  checked.  Accordingly,  she  applied 
herself  to  the  task  of  checking  him,  and  stood 
upon  guard  with  great  vigilance.  Perhaps  Rob 
was  somewhat  surprised;  perhaps,  being  prone 
to  deeper  thought  than  society  in  general  imag 
ined,  the  result  was  not  so  great  a  surprise  to 
him  as  might  have  been  expected.  But,  as  it  is 
customary  with  story-tellers  to  reveal  to  the  pub 
lic  the  private  soliloqiiies  of  the  principal  char 
acters,  whether  plotters  or  plotted  against,  who 
play  parts  in  their  stories,  I  will  record  a  simple 
soliloquy  of  my  hero's,  which  arose  from  the 
occurrence  of  several  untoward  events. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  98 

It  was  about  a  week  from  the  morning  of  the 
interview  in  the  bay-window,  when,  during  one 
evening,  Col.  Treherne  having  called,  Col.  Tre- 
herne's  star  had  seemed  very  plainly  in  the 
ascendant,  and  Rob,  upon  retiring  for  the  night, 
had,  perhaps,  felt  a  thought  depressed,  in  spite 
of  his  usual  elasticity  of  spirit.  He  had  not 
advanced  at  all,  and  fate  had  been  so  far  against 
him  that  he  had,  for  the  first  time,  felt  himself  at 
some  slight  disadvantage  among  the  little  party 
of  Treherne's  friends,  who  had  followed  that 
gentleman's  august  example  in  paying  visits  to 
the  Priory,  and  addressing  the  Rev.  Norman's 
household  goddesses.  They  were  polished,  good- 
natured  men,  upon  the  whole,  and  by  no  means 
dullards  in  any  sense ;  they  had  every  advantage 
of  wealth  and  pedigree,  and  William  the  Con 
queror  had  done  his  best  for  them,  so  that  not 
Basil  de  Tresham  himself  could  have  caviled  at 
their  antecedents ;  and,  cheerful  as  he  usually 
was,  Rob  had  felt  this  a  little  j  and  he  had  felt 


94  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

also  with  a  faint,  natural  sting,  that  the  best 
natured  of  them  felt,  however  unconsciously  and 
good-naturedly,  that  this  stranger  was  scarcely 
of  themselves.  But  he  had  borne  up  against  it 
well,  and  his  genial  gayety  had  engendered  an 
unusual  feeling  of  friendliness  and  cordiality 
toward  him,  which,  together  with  Blanche's 
thoroughbred  tactfulness,  had  saved  him  from 
what  might  have  been  a  greater  bitterness ;  and 
when  he  went  to  his  room,  he  was  not,  after  all, 
as  discomposed  as  a  less  cheerful,  well-natured 
individual  might  have  been.  Then  it  was  that 
he  gave  utterance  to  the  soliloquy  which  I  regard 
it  as  my  privilege  to  record.  He  had  paced  the 
floor  with  some  degree  of  restlessness  at  first, 
but  he  had  cooled  off  at  length,  and  brightening 
a  little,  he  stopped,  and  taking  the  mauve  glove, 
from  its  hiding-place,  kissed  it. 

"  Fate  goes  against  a  man  sometimes,"  he  said, 
with  renewed  courage  of  tone ;  "  but  what  is 
worth  winning  is  worth  waiting  for.  If  your 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  95 

hand  was  in  it,  Laura —  '  kissing  the  glove 
again.  "  But,  as  it  is  not,  I  suppose  I  may  as 
well  console  myself  with  the  fact  that  I  have  the 
glove,  and  Treherne  has  not  —  which  is  one  step 
forward,  at  least." 

And  in  the  bright,  cozy  little  dressing-room, 
only  a  few  yards  away,  another  step  forward  was 
being  taken,  in  which  he  had  no  share. 

With  a  girl's  quick  instinct,  Laura  had  observed 
his  slight  discomfiture,  and  had  dwelt  upon  it, 
as  it  might  be,  as  a  means  of  self-defence.  It 
would  be  less  difficult  to  be  strong  against  a  man 
who  was  at  a  disadvantage,  than  against  a  man 
who  was  popular,  high-spirited,  and  successful. 
For  a  little  flash  of  triumph,  for  which  she 
secretly  despised  herself,  she  had  been  incautious 
enough  to  bring  the  conversation  to  bear  upon 
the  subject,  in  hopes  that  Blanche  might  uncon 
sciously  second  her ;  but  the  result  of  her  manoeu 
vre  was  by  no  means  a  favorable  one. 

"  It  seems  really  unaccountable  to  me,  Laura," 


96  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

said  Blanche,  "  that  you  dislike  Mr.  Lindsay  so. 
I  am  sure  he  is  very  nice,  and  I  am  sure  he  likes 
you.  I  don't  agree  with  you  in  the  least,  either, 
about  his  being  awkward;  and  I  thought  he 
never  appeared  to  a  greater  advantage  than  he 
did  this  evening,  when  '  the  odds  were  against 
him,'  as  Ralph  would  say." 

Laura  elevated  her  lovely  eyebrows. 

"  Of  course,  '  the  odds '  were  against  him," 
Blanche  went  on.  "  One  couldn't  help  seeing 
that,  and  seeing,  too,  that  he  felt  it  a  little.  But 
which  of  the  men  that  were  here  this  evening 
would  have  sustained  themselves  as  coolly  under 
the  circumstances?  Did  you  see  how  good- 
humoredly  he  put  down  that  detestable  little 
Vicars,  when  he  pretended  to  have  forgotten  his 
name  ?  It  reminded  me  of  Lion  patronizing 
Ralph's  terrier.  The  Honorable  little  Eustace 
will  never  snub  him  again,  you  may  depend  upon 
,  my  dear." 

For  private  reasons  of  her  own,  Laura  forbore 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  97 

to  make  any  comment  upon  the  subject.  This 
was  certainly  not  encouraging  to  a  young  lady 
who  had  determined  to  regard  Mr.  Lindsay  in  a 
ridiculous  light.  Woman  naturally  favor  the 
stronger  party ;  and  Rob  Lindsay  so  often  showed 
himself  the  stronger  party,  through  virtue  of  his 
peculiar  coolness  of  demeanor.  He  had  shown 
himself  the  stronger  party  when  he  had  made 
his  composed  reply  to  the  little  honorable,  which 
reply  had  so  successfully  nonplused  that  small 
scion  of  a  noble  house,  and  caused  him  to  be 
covered  with  confusion  as  with  a  garment.  He 
was  showing  himself  the  stronger  party  now, 
since  Blanche  Charnley  had  been  enlisted  in  his 
favor  with  her  whole  battery  of  satirical  speeches. 
Lady  Laura  changed  the  subject. 

"Didn't  I  hear  Mr.  Charnley  say  something 
about  the  probability  of  your  brother  returning 
shortly  ?  "  she  asked,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
she  had  nothing  more  apropos  to  say. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Blanche.  "  I  forgot  to  tell 
6 


98  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

you,  by-the-by.  Papa  had  a  letter  from  him  this 
morning.  He  says  we  nmy  expect  him  in  a  day 
or  two.  I  was  glad  to  hear  it,  for  I  was  afraid 
he  would  not  be  here  in  time  to  see  Robert  Lind 
say  ;  and  I  know  Ralph  will  like  Robert  Lindsay." 

Laura  subsided  into  silence  in  despair.  Robert 
Lindsay  again !  Was  it  impossible  to  avoid 
Robert  Lindsay  urder  any  circumstances  ? 

Blanche  did  not  remain  in  the  room  as  long 
as  usual  that  night.  After  her  last  speech,  Laura 
was  not  inclined  to  be  very  communicative,  so, 
after  a  few  minutes'  vain  endeavor  to  rouse  her 
to  her  customary  animation,  Blanche  rose  to  go, 
and  coming  behind  the  chair  on  which  the  grace 
ful,  blue-robed  figure  sat,  she  lifted  a  mass  of  the 
pretty  bright  amber  hair  in  her  hands,  and,  after 
holding  it  for  a  moment  in  an  affectionate,  cares&- 
ing,  thoughtful  fashion,  she  bent  over  and  kissed 
her  friend's  smooth,  carmine-tinted  cheek. 

"  Good-night !  "  she  said,  in  a  manner  lighter 
*ban  her  pretty  action  had  been,  "  and  pleasant 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  99 

dreams!  Ah!  my  fair,  careless  goddess,  what  a 
charming  thing  it  would  be  if  you  were  only  not 
my  Lady  Laura  Tresham." 

A  few  days  later  Ralph  Charnley  returned 
from  Oxford,  and.  through  his  arrival,  fortune 
worked  very  industriously  against  Robert  Lind 
say.  Ralph  Charnley  was  a  gay,  dashing,  astute 
young  fellow,  noticeable  chiefly  for  a  wonderful 
exuberance  of  spirits.  He  was  a  popular  man, 
withal,  among  the  country-side  aristocracy;  and 
his  return  was  the  signal  for  a  fresh  influx  of 
company,  and  a  new  stock  of  amusements.  There 
came  picnics  in  the  Guestwick  woods,  evening 
parties,  excursions  to  the  little  neighboring  sea 
port  town  for  moonlight  sails ;  and,  in  the  general 
bustle  of  gayety  and  confusion,  Rob  Lindsay 
found  himself  separated  quite  as  effectually  from 
the  object  of  his  admiration  by  a  single  dignified 
dowager,  or  a  pretty,  chattering  girl,  as  he  could 
have  been  by  the  Atlantic  Ocean  itself.  As 
Blanche  had  predicted,  Ralph  conceived  a  won- 


100  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

derful  fancy  for  him,  and  before  a  week  had 
passed  they  ware  almost  inseparable.  Ralph 
had  a  true  English  love  of  sport,  and  Rob,  with 
his  remembrance  of  wild  adventure,  had  a  great 
power  of  fascination  in  his  less  experienced  eyes. 
His  sporting  seasons  had  comprised  more  than  a 
few  day-shots,  fired  in  roaming  over  a  preserve 
with  an  attendant  game-keeper  in  the  rear,  and 
iced  wines  and  game  pies  waiting  somewhere  in 
the  shade.  He  had  lain  by  his  camp-fire  through 
long  starlit  nights,  and  hunted  through  long  days 
of  an  excitement  not  without  its  peril.  He  had 
killed  as  much  game  in  two  months  as  the  highly 
respectable  keepers  of  the  Guestwick  preserves 
could  have  killed  in  two  years,  even  though  the 
Guestwick  preserves  were  considered  something 
quite  worth  boasting  about.  Thus  Ralph  Charn- 
ley's  interest  increased  daily,  and  was  finally  not 
unmixed  with  admiration. 

"He  is  a  first-rate  fellow,  that  Lindsay,"  he 
said  to  Blanche,  one  evening.     "  What  a  favorite 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  101 

he  would  be  at  such  a  place  as  Oxford  or  Cam 
bridge,  where  men  find  their  level.  We  had 
just  such  a  fellow  at  Oxford  once  —  a  Scotchman ; 
and  he  was  the  most  popular  man  there.  Just 
such  a  fellow  as  Lindsay,  and  had  lived  just  the 
same  life,  I  suppose;  and  he  could  ride,  and 
shoot,  and  fence  like  the  deuce.  I  ask  pardon, 
Lady  Laura.  j.t  is  odd,  too,  how  gentle  such  men 
generally  are.  You  don't  find  such  magnanimity 
and  tenderness  in  men  with  insignificant  muscles. 
Douglas  —  that  was  the  Scotchman's  name  —  had 
a  little  sister  —  a  tiny,  deformed  creature,  with  a 
wasted  body,  and  big,  seraphic  eyes;  and  he 
used  to  wait  on  her  like  a  woman.  Some  of  the 
men  had  been  to  his  mother's  house,  and  they 
said  that  when  the  child  was  in  one  of  her  parox 
ysms  of  pain,  no  one  could  touch  her  but  Doug 
las;  and  when  she  died,  she  died  in  his  arms. 
That  is  one  reason  why  I  say  Lindsay  is  like  him. 
It  appears  there  is  just  such  another  pitiful  little 
creature  in  one  of  the  cottages  near  here,  and 


102  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

the  undt  c- gardener  tells  me  that  Lindsay  has 
taken  a  iancy  to  her;  goes  to  see  her  almost 
every  day ;  and  the  child  fairly  lives  in  his  visits. 
I  believe  he  is  there  now." 

"  He  never  mentioned  it  to  us,"  said  Blanche. 
"  I  wonder  how  it  was  ?  " 

"  Oh !  he  is  not  likely  to  mention  it !  "  said 
Ralph.  "  He  isn't  that  sort  of  fellow,  you  see. 
Men  of  his  kind  are  not  apt  to  talk  about  what 
they  do.  If  I  were  a  woman,  I  would  trust  my 
life  to  such  a  man  as  Lindsay  without  a  copper 
farthing,  rather  than  to  trust  it  to  William  the 
Conqueror  himself." 

Necessarily,  this  was  rather  an  aggravation  of 
her  wrongs,  to  the  young  lady,  who  sat  at  a  little 
distance,  diligently  endeavoring  to  concentrate 
her  attention  upon  the  little  basket  of  gay  flosses 
and  wools  on  her  knee.  Her  small  pearl-pink 
ears  were  gradually  warming  until  she  almost 
fancied  that  their  glow  must  be  perceptible.  If 
this  state  of  affairs  lasted  much  longer,  it  would 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  103 

be  useless  to  contend  against  the  tide  of  public 
opinion. 

If  she  had  given  her  secret  inclination  the 
rein  at  that  moment,  forgetting  Basil  de  Tres- 
ham  and  the  awe-inspiring  Chancellor,  Lindsay's 
chance  of  success  would  have  been  a  very  good 
one.  But  that  was  not  so  easy  as  might  appear, 
to  the  uninitiated.  Of  course  she  did  not  love 
Robert  Lindsay  as  yet,  and,  really,  she  was  se 
cretly  very  much  afraid  of  her  guardian.  And 
then  Geoffrey  Treherne  ?  If  Geoffrey  Treherne 
had  been  less  eligible,  or  the  Chancellor  less 
pompously  imposing,  Ralph  Charnley's  words 
would  have  turned  the  tide  wondrously  that 
bright,  autumn  morning.  But,  as  it  was,  she 
did  not  love  Robert  Lindsay  yet.  So  she  was 
saying,  mentally.  She  was  safe  yet,  and  might 
she  not  make  herself  safer  still  by  saying  yes  to 
the  momentous  question  which  Geoffrey  Tre 
herne  had  asked  her  the  night  before.  She  was 
almost  desperate  enough  to  be  driven  to  do  so, 


104  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

even  while  she  had  scarcely  decided  as  yet  that 
Geoffrey  Treherne  was  more  to  her  than  Robert 
Lindsay. 

The  Charnleys  had  arranged  for  the  next  day, 
one  of  the  jolly,  unique  little  excursions  for 
which  they  were  so  justly  celebrated.  It  was  to 
be  a  shooting  party,  and,  after  the  gentlemen 
had  spent  the  earlier  part  of  the  morning  on  the 
moors,  they  were  to  repair  to  a  place  of  rendez 
vous,  where  the  ladies  and  luncheon  would  await 
them.  Then  it  was  that  Geoffrey  Treherne  wa,s 
to  be  answered,  in  consideration  of  some  nervous 
hesitation  on  Laura's  part  the  preceding  evening. 
Nothing  was  clearer  than  that  the  gentleman 
was  nDt  fearful  of  failure.  It  could  scarcely  be 
otherwise  than  that  he  should  be  successful ;  and 
this  tranquil  belief  his  manner  had  plainly  dem 
onstrated. 

Lady  Laura  scarcely  regarded  the  excursion 
with  any  degree  of  pleasurable  anticipation. 
The  truth  was,  she  had  some  slight  dread  of  it. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  105 

Perhaps  she  was  a  little  afraid  of  her  august 
lover,  or,  at  least,  sufficiently  so,  to  make  a  nega 
tive  somewhat  difficult  to  pronounce.  It  was  so 
evident  that  he  expected  a  "yes"  that  it  would 
not  be  by  any  means  an  easy  matter  to  surprise 
him  with  a  "  no." 

"  I  have  actually  no  choice  left,"  she  exclaim 
ed,  unconsciously,  with  pathetic  helplessness. 
"  Oh,  dear!  what  shall  I  do  ?" 

Ralph  had  just  left  the  room,  and  Blanche  was 
reading,  consequently  the  perfect  stillness  was 
broken  by  the  sound  of  her  voice. 

"No  choice  about  what?"  asked  Blanche, 
surprisedly,  dropping  her  book.  "  What  have 
you  no  choice  about,  Laura  ?  " 

"  Only  some  wools,"  was  the  diplomatic  reply. 
<k  I  can't  decide  which  to  choose,  rose  or  blue.  I 
don't  think  I  shall  work  any  more.  I  am  losing 
patience." 


106  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

TEE    BETROTHAL    RING. 

TO  every  one  but  Lady  Laura  the  shooting 
party  was  a  perfect  success.  The  weather 
was  cool  and  bright,  the  spirits  of  all  in  most 
excellent  order;  the  feminine  portion  conscious 
of  appearing  to  great  advantage ;  the  masculine 
half  conscious  of  being  in  the  best  of  humors, 
and  highly  satisfied  with  the  prospect  before 
them ,  All  the  morning  the  report  of  numerous 
guns  sounded  over  the  moor-lands,  and  the  purple 
heather-bells  had  been  stained  a  deeper  color  as 
the  little,  fluttering  victims  fell ;  for,  as  it  was 
the  first  of  September,  the  slaughter  of  the 
innocents  was  to  be  ushered  in  with  eclat. 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  Charnley  carriage  had 
set  down  at  the  place  of  rendezvous  its  cargo  of 
half-a-dozen  pretty  girls,  and  almost  as  many 


LINDSAY'S  LUOK.  107 

delicate  little  hampers ;  and  Col.  Treherne's  re 
spectful  and  respectable  man-servant,  with  an 
assistant,  was  moving  respectfully  here  and  there, 
drawing  forth  from  inexhaustible  corners,  won 
derful  compact  arrangements  for  the  further 
development  of  a  delicate,  compact  luncheon,  so 
called.  Said  luncheon  was  in  a  temptingly  com 
plete  state  when  the  report  of  the  guns  began  to 
sound  nearer,  and  then  ceased;  and  soon  the 
shooting  party  made  their  appearance,  followed 
by  the  attendant  game-keeper,  hungry,  elated, 
and  not  by  any  means  in  reduced  spirits. 

Behold  Geoffrey  Treherne,  in  a  faultless,  velvet 
shooting-costume  of  Lincoln  green ;  behold  Ralph 
Charnley,  in  a  brown  one ;  behold  divers  other 
eligibles,  in  divers  other  faultless  costumes,  and 
last,  but  not  least,  Robert  Lindsay,  surpassing 
himself  in  the  matter  of  good  looks,  and  wonder 
fully  surpassing  the  rest,  with  the  aid  of  shoot 
ing  costume,  and  his  muscular,  well-knit  figure 
and  comely  face. 


108  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

Lady  Laura,  standing  a  little  apart,  under  a 
huge  oak  tree,  and  looking  particularly  girlish 
and  lovely,  as  she  persistently  worked  her  para 
sol  into  the  moss  at  the  tree's  root,  glanced  up 
as  the  sportsmen  approached,  and  favored  them, 
comprehensively,  with  a  bow.  It  was  not  in 
tended  for  Treherne,  individually,  and  it  was 
certainly  not  intended  for  Eob  Lindsay ;  but 
both  gentlemen  acknowledged  it  markedly — Tre 
herne  with  a  gratified  composure  of  manner,  and 
Rob  with  a  slight,  deferential  raising  of  his  hat 
from  the  .crisp,  brown,  close  curls.  From  the 
general  interest  displayed  by  the  party,  it  was 
very  evident  that,  in  some  sort,  Mr.  Robert  Lind 
say  had  distinguished  himself  in  the  public  opin 
ion.  There  was  much  cordial  commendation  of 
his  prowess,  and  much  deferring  to  his  modestly 
expressed  opinion  on  sporting  subjects,  over  the 
luncheon.  The  Honorable  little  Eustace  had 
plainly  changed  his  mind  about  patronizing  the 
big,  good-humored  young  fellow;  and,  amid  the 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  109 

popping  of  champagne  corks,  Mr.  Rob  Lindsay 
became,  after  a  mild  fashion,  a  retiring  Nim- 
rodian  hero. 

"He  was  the  best  shot  among  us,  Lady  Laura," 
eulogized  Ralph  Charnley,  who  was  taking  his 
luncheon  with  unconventional  ease,  on  the  sward 
at  thai  young  lady's  feet.  "And  some  of  the 
fellows  were  pretty  good  shots,  too.  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  the  way  he  brought  down  a 
pheasant  Treherne  missed." 

"I  thought  Col.  Treherne  was  an  old  sports 
man,"  said  Laura,  with  meditative  annoyance. 

"  So  he  is,"  answered  Ralph.  "  But  he  is  not 
up  to  Lindsay.  The  fact  is,  Lady  Laura,  Lindsay 
is  one  of  a  thousand,  in  my  opinion.  He  is  a 
living  proof  of  my  theory  that  a  man  can  exist 
without  a  great  great-grandfather.  See  what  a 
splendid  fellow  he  is;  look  at  his  physique,  and 
then  compare  him  with  that  little  snob  Vicars. 
And  I  really  am  not  sure  whether  the  founder 
of  the  Vicars  family  was  not  William  of  Nor- 


110  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

mandy  himself,  or  William  of  Normandy's  aunt, 
Men  like  Lindsay,  strong,  fearless,  quick-witted 
fellows,  are  what  the  world  wants  in  these  days ; 
and  they  are  more  sparsely  scattered  than  they 
should  be,  though,  if  one  is  to  judge  of  him,  they 
are  plenty  enough  in  America,  wrhere  people 
grow  more  fresh  and  vigorous  than  they  seem  to 
grow  here." 

Thus  through  nearly  half  the  hour  spent  round 
the  luncheon,  and  then,  as  she  loitered  over  her 
plate,  Lady  Laura  was  favored  with  another 
expression  of  the  public  opinion,  coming  from  a 
sturdy  game-keeper,  in  drab  leggings,  who  stood 
a  few  paces  from  her,  talking  to  Treherne's  man 
servant. 

"He  bean't  no  fool,  that  American  chap," 
sagaciously  commented  he  of  the  leggings. 
"  They  can't  none  on  'em  beat  him,  I  tell  you, 
my  lad.  No  bangin'  away  and  hittin'  nowt  fur 
him.  What  he  bangs  at  is  bound  to  coom  down. 
An  he's  a  fine,  hearty-natured  young  chap,  too  — « 


LINDSAY    S     LUCK.  Ill 

cheerful  like,  an'  pleasant  i'  his  ways.     It 's  him 
as  is  so  kindly  to  that  little,  weakly  thing  o'  Jar- 


vis's." 


Then  it  was  that,  under  the  accumulation  of 
her  trials,  Laura  Tresham  came  to  a  desperate 
resolve.  What  that  resolve  was  may  be  easily 
guessed  by  what  followed  as  a  result.  When 
Geoffrey  Treherne  took  the  place  Ralph  Charnley 
had  vacated,  she  received  him  with  great  steadi 
ness  of  demeanor.  It  could  scarcely  be  said  that 
her  manner  was  encouraging,  as  far  as  any  cordi 
ality  might  be  concerned,  for  it  really  was  not ; 
still  it  was  not  actually  discouraging ;  and  from 
that  time  until  the  party  separated,  the  gentle 
man  scarcely  left  her  side,  and  was  so  composedly 
assiduous  in  his  attentions,  indeed,  that  his  air 
had  almost  a  tender  authority  in  it.  As  for 
Lady  Laura  herself,  she  really  appeared  to  be  in 
a  singular  mood.  She  looked  a  little  excited, 
and,  once  or  twice,  a  false  note  strangely  shook 
the  usual  even  sweetness  of  her  voice.  Above 


112  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

all  other  things,  Blanche  Charnley  noticed  that 
she  persistently  avoided  Robert  Lindsay.  She 
even  diplomatized  a  little  to  avoid  encountering 
him  when  they  reached  the  Priory,  and  immedi 
ately  after  tea  was  over,  she  went  to  her  room 
upon  plea  of  indisposition. 

It  was  about  two  hours  later  that  Blanche, 
following  her  up  stairs,  and  going  to  her  cham 
ber,  found  her  sitting  there  alone,  with  an  open 
book  in  her  hand.  She  was  not  reading,  how 
ever,  and  scarcely  appeared  to  have  been  doing 
so.  The  light  of  the  tapers  upon  the  dressing- 
table,  showed  two  bright  pink  spots  glowing  in 
her  cheeks,  and  a  curious,  heavy,  suspicious  glit 
ter  in  her  eyes. 

When  Blanche  entered,  she  half  closed  the 
book,  suddenly,  with  her  forefinger,  however, 
between  the  pages.  She  had  not  retired,  she 
explained,  because  her  head  had  ached  too  badly, 
and  now  it  was  better,  and  she  had  been  reading. 

There  was  a  new  anxiety  in  Blanche's  mind. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  113 

is  she  took  a  seat  upon  the  lounge  near  her 
friend.  Geoffrey  Treherne's  tender  assiduity 
had  held  its  own  significance  to  her,  and  she  was 
anxious  to  sift  the  truth  to  the  bottom.  But  as, 
of  course,  it  would  not  do  to  approach  the  sub 
ject  at  once,  she  chattered  away  with  her  usual 
animation,  and  let  the  conversation  take  its  own 
turn;  and  at  last  it  drifted,  as  if  by  chance,  to 
Geoffrey  Treherne  himself,  and,  finally,  upon  a 
ring  Geoffrey  Treherne  had  that  day  worn. 

It  was  a  singular  affair,  this  ring;  a  single, 
great,  flashing  diamond,  set  like  a  crystal  tear 
drop  upon  the  merest  slender  thread  of  gold.  It 
had  belonged  to  the  Trehernes  since  the  first 
Treherne  had  set  it  upon  the  betrothal-finger  of 
the  first  English  bride  of  their  house ;  and  from 
generation  to  generation  it  had  been  handed 
down  as  betrothal-ring  for  scores  of  fair  brides. 
There  was  a  sort  of  superstition  attached  to  it, 
Blanche  said.  Those  who  wore  it  were  bound 
with  a  magic  tie  to  their  liege  lords,  and  no 
T 


114  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

woman  could  ever  be  freed  from  the  spell,  who 
had  worn  it  if  only  for  an  hour. 

But  as  she  related  her  legend,  Blanche  observed 
that  the  pink  spots  on  Laura's  cheeks  glowed 
deeper  until  they  had  almost  deepened  to  scarlet. 
She  was  somewhat  uneasy  ?  it  seemed,  even  at 
first,  under  the  recital ;  but  when  the  last  'touch 
of  superstitious  belief  was  added,  the  scarlet  sud 
denly  faded,  and  the  book  she  had  lightly  held 
slipped  away  from  her  detaining  finger,  and  fell 
upon  the  carpet  at  her  feet.  She  stooped  to  pick 
it  up  instantly ;  but  as  she  raised  it,  Blanche 
suddenly  uttered  an  exclamation,  and,  catching 
her  hand,  held  it  up  to  the  light  of  the  waxen 
tapers. 

"  Laura ! "  she  exclaimed,  actual  tears  of  de 
spair  and  disappointment  starting  to  her  eyes. 
"  Oh,  Laura !  what  have  you  done  ?  "  For  there, 
upon  the  slender  forefinger,  glittered  the  flashing 
diamond,  imprisoned  by  the  slender  thread  of 
gold  —  the  Treherne  diamond,  that  had  held  so 


LINDSAY   S    LUCK.  115 

Treherne  brides  to  their  faith  by  the  power 
of  its  magic  spell. 

«  Tell  me  the  truth,"  demanded  Blanche.  "  It 
doesn't  mean  —  Laura,  it  can't  mean  —  "  And 
there  she  stopped. 

Lady  Laura  drew  her  hand  away,  not  blushing, 
as  a  young  lady  might  have  been  expected  to  do 
under  the  circumstances.  Indeed,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  she  looked  slightly  impatient,  in 
spite  of  her  little,  nervous  laugh. 

"  Yes,  it  does  '  mean '  Blanche,"  she  said. 
"It  means  that  the  spell  is  upon  me,  too.  It 
means  that  I  am  engaged  to  Geoffrey  Treherne .  " 


116  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

SHE    SHALL    NOT    MARKY    HIM. 


ominous  gold-imprisoned  crystal  had 
JL  flashed  upon  Laura  Tresham's  finger  for 
some  short  time,  when  a  slow,  new  doubt  gradu 
ally  unfolded  itself  to  her  mental  vision.  Of 
course,  in  these  days  Geoffrey  Treherne's  visits 
had  become  an  established  custom,  attended  with 
less  ceremony  than  they  had  formerly  been,  and 
of  course,  the  members  of  the  household  under 
stood  their  portent.  In  his  triumph  over  his 
rival,  Geoffrey  Treherne  had  been  in  a  manner 
loftily  gracious.  He  could  afford  to  be  gracious 
now,  and,  perhaps,  some  slight  pity  for  Lindsay 
rendered  him  more  gracious  than  he  would  have 
been  otherwise. 

Naturally  it  ;ould  not  be  otherwise,  than  that, 
upon  the  first  knowledge  of  the  truth,  Robert 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  117 

Lindsay  was,  for  the  Jime,  dashed  and  overcome. 
He  had  scarcely  expected  such  ill-fortune,  at  the 
worst,  and  since  it  was  unanticipated,  it  was  all 
the  harder  to  bear.  The  first  day  he  was  some 
what  more  silent  than  usual,  and  his  cheerfulness 
of  spirit  seemed  to  have  forsaken  him ;  but  the 
second  day  he  brightened  up  a  little,  and  having 
spent  the  third  out  upon  the  moorlands,  shooting 
with  Ralph,  he  returned  in  the  evening  with  a 
well-laden  game  pouch,  and,  to  all  appearance,  a 
fresh  stock  of  spirits.  From  that  time  he  did 
not  alter  his  manner  toward  Lady  Laura  in  the 
least.  He  was  as  unvaryingly  good-humored  as 
ever,  and  as  cheerfully  unmoved  by  any  coldness 
or  avoidance  on  her  part.  Even  Blanche,  with 
all  her  penetration,  was  puzzled.  He  might  have 
been  acting  in  accordance  with  some  steady, 
purposeful  resolution. 

In  the  first  flush  of  her  fancied  security,  Lady 
Laura  convinced  herself  that  her  position  was 
not  an  unpleasant  one  after  all.  True,  she  had 


118  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

pledged  herself,  and  must,  at  some  not-too-fais 
away  period,  fulfill  her  pledge ;  but  then  she  waa 
safe ;  and  just  at  this  critical  time  safety  was  a 
very  desirable  object  to  be  attained. 

But  this  was  just  at  first.  The  excitement 
worn  away  somewhat,  she  did  not  feel  quite  so 
easy — she  did  not  even  feel  quite  so  sure  of  her 
safety ;  and,  before  two  weeks  had  passed,  once 
or  twice  an  occasional  unpleasant  secret  fear  had 
forced  itself  upon  her  —  the  fear  that  "perhaps 
she  had  made  her  throw  rashly,  and  staked  a 
good  deal  for  a  safety  not  so  secure  as  she  had 
imagined  it  would  prove. 

Coming  in  from  the  garden  one  day,  she  stop 
ped  in  a  little  conservatory,  opening  into  one  of 
the  parlors,  and,  as  she  paused  to  examine  a 
newly-opened  flower,  she  saw  through  the  glass 
doors  that  Blanche  Charnley  and  Robert  Lindsay 
were  in  the  adjoining  room  together,  and  she 
caught  the  sound  of  the  following  comprehensive 
sentence,  deliberately  enunciated,  as  though  in 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  119 

continuation  of  some  before-expressed  opinion 
by  the  gentleman. 

"And  when  a  woman,  through  any  foolish 
fancy,  or  misguided  pride,  sacrifices  herself  to 
the  wretchedness  of  marrying  a  man  she  does 
not  love,  her  life  will  be  a  bitter  wreck  of  all  she 
h&3  hoped  for.  And,  on  the  honor  of  a  gentle 
man,  Miss  Blanche,  I  believe  that  the  man  who 
might  save  her  from  such  misery,  and  does  not 
dare  the  risk,  is  not  only  unstable  and  weak  of 
purpose,  but  is  unworthy  of  his  manhood." 

Laura  waited  to  hear  no  more.  She  had  heard 
qaite  enough  to  prove  to  her  that  certain  sus 
picions  she  had  felt  were  by  no  means  without 
foundation,  and  she  hurried  away.  Here  was  a 
daring  lover  indeed !  What  reasons  had  he  for 
supposing  she  did  not  love  Geoffrey  Treherne  as 
a  woman  should  love  the  man  she  marries  ?  She 
had  certainly  not  been  demonstrative  in  her 
manner  toward  him ;  but  then  she  never  was 
very  demonstrative,  and  she  had  tried  very  hard 


120  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

not  to  appear  cold.  Robert  Lindsay  was  inso 
lent,  presuming,  audacious ;  but  then  how  was 
she  to  withstand  his  audacity  ?  It  seemed  impos 
sible.  She  had  exhausted  all  her  feminine 
resources  of  coldness  and  hauteur,  and  this  was 
the  result.  Was  ever  young  lady  in  such  a  strait 
before  ?  —  absolutely  in  danger  of  being  over 
come  in  spite  of  herself,  by  a  quietly-persistent, 
cheerful  lover,  who  most  incomprehensibly  refus 
ed  to  be  rebuffed,  refused  to  be  overwhelmed, 
refused  to  submit  to  circumstances,  and  insisted 
upon  retaining  his  spirits,  and  enjoying  himself 
in  the  face  of  everything !  She  was  so  influenced 
by  her  adverse  fate,  that,  during  the  remainder 
of  the  day,  she  was  incomprehensible  also.  She 
looked  uneasy ;  she  lost  her  beautiful  composure 
of  manner;  she  was  actually  a  little  cross  to 
Blanche,  and  she  treated  Rob  Lindsay  worse  than 
she  had  ever  treated  him  before. 

Running  into  Lady  Laura's  room  accidentally 
while  she  was  dressing,  Blanche  found  her  friend 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  121 

in  tears,  and  was  surprised  to  find  her  sympa 
thetic  advances  rejected  somewhat  unamiably. 

"Please  don't  pity  me,  Blanche,"  she  said, 
with  most  unaccountable  tartness.  "I  don't 
want  to  be  pitied,  my  dear.  I  have  got  the  head 
ache,  and  I  am  cross  and  out  of  humor  with 
everybody." 

Blanche  left  her  without  expressing  any  fur 
ther  sympathy,  and,  going  down  stairs  again, 
innocently  revealed  the  state  of  affairs  to  Rob 
Lindsay,  of  course,  without  expectation  of  his 
drawing  any  conclusions  from  the  revelation. 

"  I  found  Laura  crying  a  little  just  now/'  she 
said.  "  She  says  she  has  the  headache,  and  is 
cross,  which  last  statement  may  be  entirely  relied 
on  as  being  correct.  What  singular  creatures 
we  girls  are  ?  I  actually  never  knew  Laura 
could  lose  her  temper  until  lately.  Since  the 
shooting  picnic  she  has  been  as  nicely  unangelic 
as  I  should  wish  to  see  any  one  —  as  nicely  unan 
gelic  as  the  res*  of  us.  Geoffrey  Treherne  is 
developing  her  resources" 


122  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

The  result  of  this  communication  was,  that 
when  Lady  Laura  came  down,  Rob  met  her  with 
a  very  good-natured  inquiry  concerning  her  ail 
ment. 

" I  was  sorry  to  hear  you  were  not  well,"  he 
said,  tranquilly.  "  Miss  Blanche  told  me  just 
now  that  you  had  the  headache." 

Lady  Laura's  blue,  velvet  eyes  widened  with 
some  degree  of  haughtiness,  and  a  tiny  point  of 
fire  sparkled  in  them,  suggestively. 

"  You  must  be  mistaken,"  she  answered,  "  or 
Blanche  misunderstood  me.  I  never  had  the 
headache  in  my  life,"  which  encouraging  speech 
was  made  for  the  simple  purpose  of  contradict 
ing  him,  and  making  him  feel  uncomfortable. 

But  he  did  not  look  uncomfortable.  He  only 
smiled  as  tranquilly  as  he  had  spoken. 

"  I  don't  think  I  am  mistaken,"  he  said.  "  So, 
perhaps,  it  is  possible  that  Miss  Blanche  misun 
derstood  you.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  such  is 
*he  case,  for  I  thought  you  must  be  suffering 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  123 

severely;  in  fact,  she  said  you  were  crying!" 
And  he  fixed  his  brown  eyes  on  hers,  the  lids  of 
which  were  slightly  heavy,  and  a  little  tinged 
with  faint  pink. 

That  night  Blanche  Charnley  was  very  fully 
satisfied  upon  the  subject  of  her  friend's  resources 
having  been  developed.  There  was  more  warmth 
under  the  fair,  tranquil  face,  it  appeared,  than 
people  generally  imagined.  I  think  it  probable 
that  every  woman  is  spiced  with  a  dash  of  hidden 
fire,  though  it  may  only  be  developed  upon  rare 
occasions ;  and  the  fire  flashed  forth  brilliantly. 
She  was  angry  with  Blanche  for  revealing  her 
secret  irritation,  angry  with  Robert  Lindsay  for 
daring  to  listen,  angry  with  herself  for  being 
angry,  and,  in  consequence,  more  irritable  than 
ever. 

"  It  was  ridiculous  in  you  to  tell  him,  Blanche," 
she  said.  "  And  it  was  insolent,  on  his  part,  to 
mention  it  to.  me.  I  never  disliked  any  one  in 
my  life  as  I  dislike  that  great,  absurd  giant  of  an 


124  LINDSAY'S   Lucr 

American ;  and  I  never  saw  any  one  so  absurdly 
presuming,  and  awkward,  and  tactless,  and  under 
bred  ! " 

Her  little  flash  of  wrath  cooled  off  after  this, 
and  then,  of  course,  she  began  to  regret  her 
vehemence,  and  felt  a  little  ashamed  of  herself, 
and,  after  that,  nothing  was  more  natural  and 
girl-like,  than  to  be  a  little  low-spirited,  and  a 
little  petulant;  and  at  last,  in  the  end,  to  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears,  in  a  fashion  most  unaccount 
able  to  every  one  but  herself. 

"I  know  it  is  foolish,"  she  said.  "And  I 
know  you  think  it  is  foolish,  Blanche,  but  I  am 
so — so  miserable."  And  it  was  very  evident 
that  she  was  speaking  the  truth,  however  extra 
ordinary  such  a  truth  might  seem. 

"  Miserable  !  "  echoed  Blanche.  "  Miserable 
with  that  on  your  finger,  Laura?"  And  she 
touched  the  Treherne  diamond. 

In  this  moment  of  her  weakness,  Laura  forgot 

i 

to  be  cautious,  and  forgot  that  she  was  talking. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  125 

to  a  very  penetrating  young  lady.  She  flung  out 
her  hand  with  a  petulant  gesture. 

"  I  hate  it ! "  she  exclaimed ;  and  then  sud 
denly  recollecting  herself,  and  regretting  her 
dreadfully  weak  candor,  she  added,  "  At  least  I 
don't  hate  it;  but  sometimes  I  almost  wish  —  I 
mean  to  say,  I  almost  wonder  if — if  it  would  not 
have  been  better  to  have  waited  a  little." 

This  diminuendo,  together  with  her  evident 
confusion,  was  very  expressive. 

"  Ah,  I  dare  say !  "  said  Blanche,  consolingly. 
"  I  thought  so,  from  the  first,  Laura ;  but  it  is 
too  late  now." 

Yes,  it  was  too  late  now,  very  much  too  late, 
if  the  Treherne  annals  were  to  be  relied  upon ; 
and  this  conviction,  perhaps,  made  Laura  Tres- 
ham  more  impatient  than  anything  else  would 
have.  Before  her  engagement  she  had  at  least 
liked  Geoffrey  Treherne  a  little  ;  but  now,  being 
bound  to  him  by  that  unpleasantly  significant 
legend,  the  tie  chafed  her  sorely,  and  occasionally 


126  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

she  had  felt  as  though  very  little  would  turn  the 
tide  of  her  opinion,  and  make  her  dislike  him 
intensely.  She  knew  that  she  was  never  happier 
for  his  presence ;  she  was  even  compelled  to 
acknowledge  the  secret  feeling  that  she  was 
slightly  relieved  when  circumstances  interfered 
with  his  visits,  and  her  own  heart  told  her  that 
she  had  never  so  nearly  hated  him  as  when  he 
had  pressed  his  first  gracious  bethrothal  kiss 
upon  her  shrinking  lips.  She  knew  pretty  girls 
who  were  engaged,  "who  seemed  to  be  wondrously 
happy,  and  whose  bright  eyes  were  all  the 
brighter  and  more  tender  for  their  lover's  gallant 
speeches.  She  had  never  blushed  under  Geoffrey 
Treherne's  most  flattering  addresses  —  she  had 
even  felt  very  uneasy  under  them.  But  then  it 
was  as  Blanche  had  said,  too  late,  and  she  must 
even  bear  the  uncomfortable  cross  with  a  good 
grace,  since  she  herself  had  taken  it  up. 

And  then,  after  this,  there  was  an  unexpected 
arrival  at  the  Priory,  and  this  arrival  was  no  less 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  127 

a  person  than  Lady  Laura's  guardian,  Mr.  Jer- 
nyngham,  who  bore  down  upon  his  ward  on  his 
way  to  Scotland,  with  a  characteristic  weight  ci 
dignity,  which  almost  overwhelmed  that  young 
lady.  He  was  making  a  business  tour,  and  his 
object  in  calling  was  to  state  his  approval  of  the 
engagement,  with,  of  course,  a  slight  reservation 
in  behalf  of  the  magnificence  of  Basil  de  Tres- 
ham.  The  match  was  a  fitting  one  in  every  point 
of  yiew ;  but,  of  course,  no  honor  could  be  done, 
and  nothing  could  be  added  to  the  stately  lofti 
ness  of  the  house  of  Tresham,  despite  the  much- 
to-be-regretted  fact  that  its  sole  present  represen 
tative  was  merely  a  blue,  velvet-eyed,  golden- 
haired  young  lady,  whose  affairs  of  the  heart 
were  in  an  unpleasantly  complicated  state. 

Under  the  heavy  pressure  of  her  guardian's 
presence,  Laura  felt  her  courage  subsiding  rap 
idly.  What  would  he  have  said  had  he  known 
with  what  an  inward  shrinking  she  received  his 
graciously  proffered  congratulations  in  their  first 


128  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

private  interview  ?  What  would  he  have  said, 
had  he  known  what  an  unlady-like  impulse 
directed  her,  after  the  interview  was  over,  to 
snub  her  dignified  bethrothed  upon  his  arrival  ? 
What  would  he  think  if  he  knew  that  the  lucky 
son  of  a  "  person  in  trade  "  carried  her  glove  in 
his  pocket,  and  monopolized  her  secret  thoughts, 
to  the  great  detriment  of  her  affianced  ? 

The  new  arrival  patronized  Robert  Lindsay 
•srith  great  majesty,  but  not  at  all  to  the  young 
man's  confusion.  He  was  becoming  used  to  some 
degree  of  patronage,  and  could  bear  it  with  the 
most  undiminished  cheerfulness.  He  had  even 
told  Blanche  Charnley  that  he  rather  liked  it,  to 
that  young  lady's  intense  amusement.  Thus  it 
may  be  easily  seen,  that  the  struggle  going  on 
was  a  very  unequal  one.  Laura  Tresham  was 
easily  influenced  —  Robert  Lindsay  scarcely  to  be 
influenced  at  all.  During  the  two  days  of  her 
guardian's  stay,  her  fair  young  ladyship's  patience 
was  tried  beyond  all  bounds.  Treherne's  eyes 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  129 

were  gradually  opening  to  a  knowledge  of  the 
fact  that  his  rival  was  more  persevering  than  he 
had  imagined.  Circumstances,  too,  seemed  to 
favor  Rob  Lindsay  wondrously,  in  the  face  of  his 
first  want  of  success.  He  found  himself  una 
voidably,  as  it  appeared,  thrown  into  Lady 
Laura's  path.  Perhaps  diplomacy  on  Blanche's 
part  assisted  him.  Blanche  Charnley  was  a 
thorough  feminine  plotter,  and  worked  with  a 
will. 

"  She  shall  not  marry  Geoffrey  Treherne  if  I 
can  help  it,"  she  said,  desperately;  "and  cer* 
tainly  she  won't  if  Robert  Lindsay  can  help  it." 

8 


130  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 


CHAPTER 

"I    CANNOT    LISTEN    TO    YOU." 

SO  she  managed  to  bring  about  interviews 
that  were  absolutely  unavoidable  ;  so  she 
forbore  to  uphold  her  favorite,  but  let  him  uphold 
himself  ;  so  she  privately  inquired  into  the  facts 
of  his  kindliness  toward  the  little  deformed 
daughter  of  the  under-gardener,  and,  dropping  a 
chance  word  here  and  there,  aroused  Laura's 
secret  sympathy,  and  that  most  powerful  of  all 
feminine  feelings,  curiosity. 

Then  it  was  that  Rob,  for  the  first  time,  began 
to  recognize  a  faint  shadow  of  sadness  in  the  soft, 
girlish  eyes  he  loved  so  well,  and  for  whose  sake 
he  was  doing  such  steadfast  battle  ;  and  it  ap 
pealed  to  his  tenderness.  A  man  with  less  hearty 
strength  of  purpose  would  have  long  before 
abandoned  a  struggle  in  which  the  odds  seemed 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  131 

so  fearfully  against  him ;  but  Rob  Lindsay's  be 
lief  in  the  simple  strength  of  faith  and  endurance 
was  a  very  powerful  one.  Circumstances  had 
proved  to  him  clearly  that  Laura  Tresham's  lover 
was  even  a  far  less  successful  man  than  himself 
in  the  matter  of  having  won  Laura  Tresham's 
heart.  Was  he  sure  that  he  had  won  Laura  Tres 
ham's  heart  himself  ?  Well,  of  late  he  had  even 
dared  sometimes  to  think  so,  and  decidedly  he 
was  not  sure  that  he  had  not  won  it,  which  was 
really  some  cause  for  rejoicing.  Thus  he  did  not 
despair. 

But,  after  her  guardian's  visit,  Laura  was  ren 
dered  desperate.  She  was  not  safe  after  all; 
she  was  even  more  unsafe  than  she  had  ever  been 
before ;  and  thus,  out  of  her  desperation,  there 
grew  a  resolve  almost  as  desperate  as  her  first 
one.  She  would  speak  to  Mr.  Lindsay  openly ; 
she  would  force  him  to  defend  himself ;  she  would 
tell  him  that  his  absurd  persistence  was  worse 
than  hopeless,  and  then,  if  this  did  not  result  in 


132  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

his  being  utterly  defeated,  she  would  return  to 
London.  That  would  end  the  matter,  surely. 
But  she  did  not  acknowledge  to  herself,  even  ID 
her  most  secret  thoughts,  that  London  was  her 
last,  her  very  last  resource,  and  that  London, 
even  though  presenting  itself  as  a  haven  of 
refuge  from  this  too  courageous  lover,  loomed  up 
before  her  reluctant  mental  vision  with  bitter 
gloom. 

Northumberland  had  been  so  pleasant,  she  said, 
inwardly;  and  it  was  because  Northumberland 
had  been  so  pleasant  that  she  was  so  unwilling  to 
leave  it.  But  then  she  must  go  some  day,  and 
already  she  had  far  outstayed  the  usual  term  of 
her  summer  visits.  She  had  been  at  the  Prior}' 
nearly  three  months,  and,  notwithstanding  her 
grievances,  the  three  months  had  seemed  terribly 
short.  No  opportunity  for  the  consummation  of 
her  plans  presented  itself  to  her  for  several  days. 
But,  at  length,  one  evening,  as  she  came  out  of 
her  room  to  go  down  to  dinner,  the  door  of 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  135 

Robert  Lindsay's  room  opened  behind  her,  just 
as  it  had  done  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival. 
On  the  impulse  of  the  moment  she  spoke  to  him. 

"  She  wished  to  speak  to  him  alone,"  she  said. 
"  It  was  necessary  that  she  should  see  him  alone, 
because,  what  she  was  desirous  of  saying  to  him, 
could  not  be  said  in  the  presence  of  others." 

Rob  bowed  composedly,  but,  nevertheless, 
with  some  surprise  in  his  eyes.  He  would  return 
to  the  dining-room,  after  dinner,  at  any  time  that 
would  suit  Lady  Laura's  plans. 

Lady  Laura's  desperation  was  more  intense 
than  ever,  and  the  embarrassed  pink  on  hei 
cheek  burned  into  rose.  Half  an  hour  after  din 
ner  would  do.  This  was  all  she  had  to  say,  and 
there  she  left  him;  and  he  discovered  that  he 
had  taken  his  old  stand  again,  unconsciously,  and 
was  watching  the  sweep  of  her  rich  dinner-dress, 
just  as  he  had  done  once  before. 

And  half  an  hour  after  the  dinner  was  over, 
he  sauntered  back  to  the  dining-room,  and  found 


134  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

her  young  ladyship  awaiting  him,  and  pretend 
ing  to  read  by  the  light  of  the  chandelier.  But 
the  reading  was  such  a  poor  little  pretence,  that, 
in  spite  of  her  attempts  to  preserve  a  beautiful 
unconsciousness  of  the  embarrassment  of  her 
position,  she  colored  most  transparently. 

Rob  took  his  stand  complacently.  He  was 
rather  curious  to  see  how  the  matter  would  end ; 
but,  notwithstanding  the  faint  inkling  he  had  of 
its  portent,  he  was  not  much  discomposed.  He 
was  not  the  man  to  be  discomposed  by  a  pretty 
girl;  and  Lady  Laura  Tresham  had  never  looked 
BO  pretty,  so  innocent,  and  so  girlish,  as  she  did 
just  at  the  moment  she  closed  her  book,  with  the 
flicker  of  embarrassed  light  in  her  eyes. 

Rob  was  quite  conscious  of  her  embarrassment, 
and  very  conscious  indeed  of  the  prettiness  and 
girlish  timidity  of  manner.  Perhaps  lie  had 
never  admired  Laura  Tresham  so  much  as  he  did 
that  instant ;  and  decidedly  he  had  never  felt  so 
steady  in  his  determination  to  do  honest  battle 
for  her  sweet  sake. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  135 

It  was  at  least  five  minutes  before  Lady  Laura 
summoned  a  sufficient  amount  of  courage  to 
allow  of  her  broaching  the  subject  of  her  griev 
ance,  and  when  the  courage  was  summoned,  and 
the  subject  broached,  it  was  done  with  some  slight 
degree  of  tameness.  She  scarcely  knew  what 
she  said  as  a  beginning;  but  she  was  quite  con 
scious  that  it  was  very  weakly  said,  and  that  her 
knowledge  of  her  weakness  burned  even  her 
white  forehead  like  fire.  Altogether,  her  appeal 
was  something  like  a  sudden  little  burst  of  feel 
ing,  half  like  a  small  denunciation,  half  like  a 
reluctant  reproach;  and  it  ended  by  accusing 
Robert  Lindsay  of  being  unjust  and  unkind. 

"  You  made  me  appear  absurd  before,"  she 
Baid,  "and  you  are  making  me  appear  absurd 
again ;  worse  still,  you  are  forcing  me  to  make 
myself  appear  absurd." 

"  In  whose  eyes  ? "  repeated  Rob,  just  as  he 
had  done  before.  "Don't  say  in  mine,  Lady 
Laura." 


136  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

She  scarcely  deigned  to  look  at  him.  By  the 
repetition  of'  her  grievances  she  had  almost 
managed  to  make  herself  angry,  and  she  felt  it 
to  her  advantage  to  add  as  much  fuel  as  possible 
to  her  wrath,  lest  it  might  come  to  a  weak  con 
elusion. 

"It  is  ridiculous,"  she  said,  again.  "You  kno\^ 
it  is,  Mr.  Lindsay.  And  if  your  intention  was  to 
make  me  feel  wretched  and  uncomfortable,  you 
have  certainly  been  successful." 

"  I  did  not  intend'to  make  you  uncomfortable," 
said  Rob. 

"If  —  if  I  were  not — engaged,"  with  a  little 
dash  at  the  last  word,  and  a  great  dash  of  new 
color,  "  you  know  that  you  —  that  I  —  I  mean 
to  say  —  you  know  that  you  are  treating  me  very 
unjustly,  Mr.  Lindsay." 

She  stopped  here,  petulant  and  excited,  and 
waited  for  his  reply,  without  looking  at  him. 
At  this  juncture  Rob  rose  from  his  seat,  and, 
slightly  to  her  wonder,  took  two  or  three  abrupt 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  137 

turns  across  the  room.  Then  he  came  back,  and 
folding  his  arms  on  the  high  back  of  his  chair, 
looked  down  at  her  bright,  bent  head,  and  petu 
lant,  fair  face. 

"  Why,  Lady  Laura  ?  "  he  asked. 

Now  this  was  really  trying ;  and  not  only  try 
ing,  but  confusing.  Necessarily  the  two  or  three 
abrupt  turns  across  the  room  had  taken  some 
Bhort  time,  and  necessarily  this  lapse  of  time, 
short  as  it  was,  had  wholly  unprepared  Lady 
Laura  for  this  composed  inquiry.  In  her  sur 
prise  and  embarrassment  she  forgot  herself,  and 
looked  up  at  him,  and  thus  became  more  con 
fused  than  ever. 

"  I  really  don't  understand  you,  Mr.  Lindsay," 
she  said. 

"  Then  I  can  easily  make  myself  understood,  I 
suppose,"  answered  Eob,  cheerfully,  "  by  speak 
ing  more  plainly.  Why  is  it  absurd  that  I  should 
love  you  ?  Why  is  it  absurd  that  I  should  wish 
to  tell  you  so  ?  Why  is  it  absurd  that  I  should 


138  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

wish  to  win  you  as  Geoffrey  Treherne  did  ?    That 
is  what  I  mean  ?  " 

Frank  and  fearless  as  he  always  was,  and  as 
she  had  always  known  him  to  be,  this  was  more 
than  she  had  expected.  She  had  never  thought 
he  would  dare  so  far  as  this  at  least,  and  the 
sudden  knowledge  that  the  worst  had  come  to 
the  worst,  indeed,  was  such  a  shock  to  her  that 
she  felt  powerless,  and  lost  even  the  atom  of  self- 
possession  of  which  she  might  perhaps  have 
boasted  a  few  minutes  before.  And,  apart  from 
this,  having  admired  him  a  little  in  secret,  and 
having  been  so  often  conquered  by  his  fearless 
ness  in  their  battles,  there  was  something  almost 
touching  in  the  fact  of  this  fearlessness  asserting 
itself  so  strongly.  And  since  she  was  thus 
touched  for  the  moment,  there  was  no  help  for 
her,  for,  be  she  as  proud  as  she  may,  when  a 
woman  is  touched  indeed,  she  is  weaker  than 
even  her  worst  enemies  may  fancy.  She  looked 
up  at  hun  once,  and  faltered ;  she  looked  up  at 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  139 

him  again,  and  felt  his  strength;  she  looked  a 
third  time,  and  acknowledged  her  own  weakness, 
and  remembering  nothing  but  this  weakness, 
got  up  from  her  chair,  hurriedly,  and  broke  down 
into  a  pretty,  sudden  appeal,  that  was  wonder 
fully  unexpected  even  to  him. 

"  You  ought  not  to  say  such  things  to  me," 
she  said,  desperately.  "You  must  know  it  is 
wrong,  and  —  cruel.  Ah,  Mr.  Lindsay!  why 
wont  you  have  pity  on  me,  and  be  reasonable  ?  " 

From  his  place  behind  the  chair,  upon  whose 
high  back  he  leaned,  Rob  looked  down  at  this 
fair,  despairing  enchantress,  with  a  great  deal  of 
serenity  of  manner.  He  was  not  a  Geoffrey  Tre- 
herne,  and  his  pride  was  not  of  the  Treherne 
order,  inasmuch  as  it  had  more  of  self-respect, 
and  less  of  self-sufficiency  about  it.  Laura  Tres- 
ham  could  not  overpower  him  with  her  stately 
coldness.  She  had  struggled  against  him  with 
her  utmost  power ;  she  had  called  him  awkward 
and  presuming;  she  had  sneered  at  him  when 


140  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

she  spoke  of  him  to  Blanche  Charnley ;  but  sh« 
had  never  daunted  him  in  the  least,  and,  in  spite 
of  her  sneers,  she  had  not  been  able  to  resist  him 
in  the  end;  and  here  she  was  sitting  with  him 
alone,  giving  him,  this  big,  underbred  American, 
an  interview,  in  spite  of  herself,  and  feeftng  fully 
conscious  that  she  was  getting  the  worst  of  the 
combat. 

Rob  was  cheerful,  composed,  serene,  good- 
humored  to  everything;  and  with  his  serenity 
he  baffled  her  once  more,  and  scattered  her  self- 
possession,  and  her  self-possessed  plans  to  the 
winds. 

"  Reasonable ! "  he  echoed,  when  she  had 
finished  speaking.  "Am  I  unreasonable,  Lady 
Laura?  Is  it  unreasonable  that  I  should  love 
you,  and  that  loving  you  I  should  have  deter 
mined  to  win  you,  if  I  might,  in  spite  of  the 
world,  in  spite  of  Col.  Treherne,  in  spite  of  Wil 
liam  the  Conqueror,  who,  it  appears,  has  stood 
between  me  and  my  man's  right  to  say  to  you, 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  141 

like  an  honorable  gentleman,  '  Laura,  I  love  you. 
Give  me  the  blessed  right  to  call  you  wife.' ' 

She  turned  upon  him,  actually  feeling  pale, 
notwithstanding  her  poor  little  pretence  of  anger. 

"  You  are  going  too  far,"  she  cried,  more  des- 
peiately  than  ever.  "I  cannot  listen  to  you  —  I 
will  not  listen  to  you.  I  asked  you  to  have  pity 
on  me,  and  you  have  no  pity.  I  will  not  appeal 
to  you  again.  You  are  unjust,  and  unkind,  and 
wicked !  "  And  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

There  was  a  short  silence,  not  without  its  sting 
of  bitterness  to  Rob,  just  the  momentary  sting 
he  had  felt  so  often  before — a  sting  bitter  enough 
though  it  passed  away. 

"Ah,  Laura! "  he  said,  at  length,  almost  sadly, 
it  seemed.  "  I  cannot  even  ask  you  to  forgive 
me ;  for  what  is  there  to  forgive,  and  how  can  I 
regret  that  I  have  loved  you  ?  You  are  not  Lord 
Tresham's  daughter  to  me — you  are  only  a 
woman,  —  the  woman  I  love  with  all  my  soul, 
and  all  my  strength ;  and  since  I  am  a  man,  I 


142  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

have  not  feared  your  stately  pride,  for,  by  my 
life,  if  love,  and  patient  faith,  and  man's  honor, 
can  win  a  woman,  I  will  win  you  yet,  in  spite  of 
ten  William  the  Conquerors.  If  you  had  loved 
Geoffrey  Treherne,  or  if,  without  having  won 
your  love,  he  could  make  you  happier  than  T 
could,  I  would  lay  my  love  at  your  feet,  and 
leave  you  here  with  him,  and  go  back  to  America 
to-morrow.  But  you  do  not  love  him,  and,  in 
your  secret  heart,  you  dread  the  marriage ;  and 
if  I  can  save  you  from  it,  I  will  not  give  you  up. 
I  will  not  —  I  will  not,  by  my  faith." 

Laura  started  from  her  seat  again,  white  with 
wrath  and  agitation,  and  the  two  faced  each 
other  as  they  had  never  done  before  —  their  sud 
den  mood  a  new  one. 

Rob  stood  up  too,  no  longer  leaning  upon  the 
chair,  but  erect,  and  with  his  arms  folded,  his 
careless  good-humor  overruled  by  something  in 
finitely  deeper  and  more  worthy — the  something 
innately  natural  to  the  man,  but  a  something  he 
did  not  show  every  day. 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  143 

"  How  fos  }  you !  "  Laura  flashed  out.  "  How 
dare  f/ou  say  I  do  not  love  Col.  Treherne  ?  What 
rigLf  have  you  to  presume  to  say  so  ?  You  are 
insolont,  indeed,  sir." 

Rob  came  nearer  to  her,  with  an  odd,  repressed 
fire  in  his  steady,  handsome  eyes. 

"  Laura ! "  he  said,  with  almost  singular  steadi 
ness,  "  Say  that  you  love  him,  and  I  will  leave 
you  now." 

She  opened  her  lips,  looked  at  him,  and  stop 
ped.  She  thought  of  Geoffrey  Treherne,  and 
his  half -measured  love;  she  thought  of  Lady 
Laura  Treherne  in  the  future,  and  turned  palei 
than  before.  Rob  Lindsay  had  conquered  hei 
again.  But  her  anger  and  wounded  pride  came 
to  her  aid,  and  helped  her,  and  she  turned  away, 
haughtily. 

"I  shall  not  say  so,"  she  said.  "1  shall  not 
reply  to  a  question  so  insolent.  Your  presump 
tion  is  unpardonable !  "  And,  having  said  this, 
she  swept  by,  and  left  him  standing  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  room  alone. 


114  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Then  she  went  to  her  chamber,  and  wrote  a 
letter  to  her  guardian. 

"  I  am  going  back  to  London  with  Mr.  Jer- 
nyngham,  when  he  returns,"  she  said  to  Blanche, 
who  found  her  in  the  middle  of  it.  "  I  must  go 
back,  some  time,  you  know,  and  I  think  I  had 
better  go  now." 

Nor  could  all  Blanche's  entreaties  change  the 
Lady  Laura's  determination. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  145 

CHAPTER  IX. 
"GOOD-BY,  LADY  LAURA." 

IT  is  very  probable  that,  after  Lady  Laura's 
departure,  despite  the  muir-fowl  and  the 
tactful  good-nature  of  the  Charnleys,  Northum 
berland  seemed,  for  a  day  or  so,  a  trifle  dull  to 
Rob  Lindsay.  There  was  a  strange  sense  of 
lonely  emptiness,  even  in  the'delightful,  cozy,  old- 
fashioned  rooms  of  the  Priory,  since  the  sweet, 
proud  face  illumined  them  no  longer.  And, 
besides  this,  the  autumn  having  fairly  set  in,  had 
set  in,  of  course,  in  good  old  dismal  English 
fashion,  with  gray,  leaden  clouds,  and  drizzling, 
suicide -suggesting  rains,  and  dropping,  sodden 
leaves.  It  was  a  little  disheartening,  too,  to  hear, 
in  the  course  of  a  week,  that  Treherne  had  run 
down  to  London ;  and  it  was  equally  dishearten 
ing  to  guess  the  cause  of  his  visit ;  but  still  Rob 
9 


146  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Lindsay  did  not  quite  lose  courage.  It  would  not 
do,  however,  to  remain  at  the  Priory  very  much 
longer;  so,  after  a  week's  lounging,  and  reading, 
and  grouse-shooting,  he  decided  that  he  would 
continue  his  travels,  as  he  had  from  the  first 
intended  doing ;  and,  having  come  to  this  decis 
ion,  he  broached  his  plans  to  Ralph  Charnley. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "I  promised  myself  a 
comfortable,  careless,  amateur  sort  of  a  tour 
through  the  Old  World ;  and  I  am  of  the  opinion 
that  it  would  be  all  the  pleasanter  for  a  compan 
ion.  Why  can't  you  crarn  your  things  into  a 
valise  and  come  along  with  me  ? " 

Ralph  was  highly  pleased.  There  was  nothing 
to  prevent  him  doing  so,  he  said. 

"  We  will  go  wherever  the  guide-books  tell  us 
to  go,"  said  Rob,  sagaciously ;  "  and  we  will  stay 
at  each  place  until  we  want  to  go  somewhere 
else.  That's  my  mode  of  travel." 

"It's  a  first-class  one,"  answered  Ralph,  with 
an  admiring  glance  at  the  strengthful,  idle  figure, 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  147 

(stretched  full  length  upon  the  sofa.  "  And  we 
might  stop  in  London  a  day  or  so,  on  our  way." 

"So  we" might,"  said  Rob,  as  coolly  as  though 
the  idea  had  just  occurred  to  him. 

"  And  we  might  call  upon  Jernyngham  and 
see  Lady  Laura.  Blanche  had  a  letter  from  her 
this  morning,  and  it  appears  she  is  not  very  well." 
This  with  great  gravity  of  demeanor,  but  also 
with  a  side-glance,  not  unlike  one  of  Blanche's, 
at  the  good-looking,  brown-eyed  face  opposite. 

The  brown-eyed  face  had  changed  slightly,  it 
seemed,  for  the  instant ;  a  flicker  of  light  passed 
over  it,  touching  the  brown  eyes  with  tenderness. 
Ah !  Lady  Laura,  you  were  only  a  girl  to  him  — 
a  girl  whom  he  loved,  and  for  whom  he  had  a 
sudden  sense  of  pity,  through  his  fancy  of  the 
imposing  Chancery  representative  of  Geoffrey 
Treherne  combining  themselves  with  the  brazen 
wreight  of  Basil  de  Tresham. 

"  Laura  Tresham  is  a  charming  girl,"  Ralph 
remarked,  casually,  as  it  were ;  "  but  she  has 
made  a  great  mistake,  in  my  opinion." 


148  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

"How?"  asked  Rob,  calmly  and  reflectively 
surveying  the  light  wreaths  of  smoke  curling  up 
from  the  end  of  his  cigar. 

"  How,  indeed !  "  echoed  young  Charnley. 
"  Just  as  a  hundred  other  women  do  every  day 
Treherne  is  a  magnificent,  gentlemanly  idiot." 

"  Oh !  you  mean  Treherne,  do  you  ? "  Rob 
returned,  still  looking  at  his  cigar  wreaths. 
"Well,  perhaps  I  am  scarcely  qualified  to  judge 
whether  you  are  right  or  not,  inasmuch  as  — " 
And  here  he  stopped. 

"  Inasmuch  as  ? "  was  Ralph's  quiet  sugges 
tion. 

Rob  laughed. 

"Inasmuch  as,"  he  answered,  with  consider 
able  candor  —  "  Yes ;  inasmuch  as  Treherne  won 
where  I  lost  —  for  the  time  being." 

Ralph  gave  him  another  of  the  quick  glances 
that  wore  so  like  Blanche's. 

"  For  the  time  being  ? "  he  repeated. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Rob,  good-humoredly.     "  *  He 


LINDSAY    S     LUCK. 


149 


who  fights  and  runs  away,  may  live  to  fight 
another  day.'  And  I  did  not  run  away,  my  dear 
old  fellow.  I  was  merely  defeated,  for  the  time 
being,  as  I  said  before." 

This  was  more  than  Ralph  Charnley  had  ex 
pected  to  hear.  The  fact  was,  he  had  been  sym 
pathizing  with  his  friend,  to  some  extent,  in 
private. 

"  Does  that  mean  you  have  not  given  her  up 
yet?"  he  asked,  surprisedly. 

"  I  don't  give  anything  up  easily,"  said  Rob. 
"  I  should  not  give  a  trifle  up  easily,  and  Laura 
Tresham  is  not  a  trifle.  Yes,  that  is  what  it 
means." 

Ralph  turned  and  looked  at  him  from  head  to 
foot — at  his  careless,  handsome  face,  with  its 
heart  of  hidden  strength;  at  his  careless,  hand 
some  figure,  carelessly  expressing  just  the  same 
heart  again ;  and  having  taken  him  in,  as  it  were, 
he  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You  look  as  if  you  could  turn  the  world," 


150  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

was  his  comprehensive  comment;  "and  though 
you  have  before  you  the  harder  task  of  turning 
a  woman,  it  suggests  itself  to  me  that  there  ia 
not  much  doubt  of  your  ultimate  success." 

"  Thank  you !  "  said  Rob,  succinctly. 

A  few  days  later,  Lady  Laura,  sitting  at.  one 
of  the  iron-balconied  windows  of  the  Jernyng- 
ham  mansion,  was  startled  by  the  sight  of  a 
familiar,  careless,  well-knit  figure,  that  was  being 
ushered  through  the  big  entrance  gates  by  the 
porter.  Naturally  she  was  startled,  for  she  had 
imagined  this  same  careless,  well-knit  figure  to 
be  at  that  moment  looking  out  at  the  rain  and 
mist,  from  certain  windows  in  Northumberland. 

She  rose  from  her  seat  hurriedly,  feeling  not 
a  little  agitated.  She  must  refuse  to  see  him,  of 
course.  And  then  a  sudden  thought  arose  to 
her  mind :  he  was  going  away !  Perhaps  he  was 
going  back  to  America,  and  they  might  not  meet 
again !  And  he  had  not  been  so  very  wrong, 
after  all.  And  —  and  —  the  truth  was,  she  could 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  151 

not  quite  make  up  her  mind  to  dismiss  this  brave, 
indefatigable  suitor  without  a  farewell  word.  A 
moment  more,  and  a  card  was  handed  to  her  by 
a  servant,  who  looked  at  her  slightly  agitated 
face  with  something  of  wonder. 

"  Robert  Lindsay." 

She  read  it  two  or  three  times,  to  steady  her 
self.  Since  it  might  be  a  farewell  visit,  perhaps 
it  would  be  better  to  see  him  —  at  any  rate,  it 
would  be  the  easier  plan.  Accordingly,  she  went 
into  the  drawing-room,  where  Rob  awaited  her 
arrival. 

His  stay  was  not  a  long  one,  however.  He 
was  not  going  back  to  America,  after  all;  and, 
her  fears  on  this  point  relieved,  Laura  could  not 
resist  a  very  conscious  remembrance  of  their 
last  interview.  It  was  rather  a  difficult  matter 
to  refer  to  the  Charnleys,  and  the  summer  visit, 
and  still  steer  clear  of  the  hidden  quicksands, 
and,  in  endeavoring  to  do  so,  she  found  herself 
becoming  entangled,  as  usual.  She  was  wretch- 


162  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

edly  uneasy  under  his  presence.  She  had  been 
wretched  ever  since  she  had  left  Northumber 
land.  She  had  been  terribly  wretched  under  the 
infliction  of  Geoffrey  Treherne's  visits ;  and  Rob 
ert  Lindsay's  unexpected  presence  proved  to  her, 
before  many  minutes  had  passed,  that  the  acme 
of  her  wretchedness  was  yet  to  be  reached.  It 
useless  to  attempt  to  appear  at  ease.  The 
,  tell-tale  fire  crept  up  on  her  cheeks  at  his 
first  glance,  and  in  his  brief  stay  it  deepened 
and  burned  into  a  steady  flame.  He  did  not 
refer  to  the  past  at  all  during  their  interview, 
but  when,  at  last,  he  rose  to  go,  his  careless  mood 
seemed  to  change,  and  a  momentary  shadow  of 
inward  feeling  fell  upon  him.  He  had  tried  in 
vain  to  rouse  her  to  something  of  freedom  and 
frankness,  and  his  visible  failure  had  stung  him 
somewhat. 

"  When  I  was  a  boy  at  school,"  he  said  "  they 
used  to  say  I  was  a  fortunate  fellow,  as  a  rule, 
and  Lindsay's  luck  was  a  sort  of  proverb.  But 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  153 

it  seems  to  have  failed  me  a  little  at  last.  In  an 
hour  from  now,  I  dare  say,  I  shall  not  feel  that  I 
am  battling  against  fate ;  but  just  now  I  do  feel 
it,  strongly.  Good-by,  Lady  Laura."  And  he 
held  out  his  hand. 

She  took  it,  feeling  terribly  at  a  loss  for  some 
speech  sufficiently  cold  and  inapropos  of  the 
subject. 

"  Will  your  absence  be  a  long  one  ? "  she  fal 
tered,  awkwardly. 

He  glanced  down  at  her  face,  and  then  at  the 
hand  he  held  —  the  hand  with  the  legendary 
Treherne  diamond  upon  it. 

"  I  scarcely  know,"  he  said.  "  It  seems,  just 
now,  you  see,  as  if  I  were  something  like  one 
too  many ;  but,  when  that  feeling  wears  away,  I 
dare  say  you  will  see  me  again ;  and  then  per 
haps  it  will  be  to  hear  me  say,  '  Good-by>  Lady 
Laura  Treherne.' ' 

She  stood  behind  the  heavy  curtains  of  the 
window,  and  watched  him  pass  out  of  the  en- 


154  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

trance-gate,  just  as  she  had  watched  him  pass  in, 
and,  as  the  last  echo  of  his  footsteps  sounded 
upon  the  wet  pavement,  she  felt  an  odd,  uncom 
fortable  pressure  on  her  throat  —  that  uncomfort 
able,  suffocating  throb,  which  w,et  days  and  ad 
verse  talcs  bring  to  women,  now  and  then,  as  a 
punishment  for  their  small  transgressions ;  then 
a  hot  dro^  slipped  down  her  cheek  and  flashed 
upon  hei  hand,  very  near  the  Treherne  diamond; 
and  then  another  and  another,  fast  and  heavily. 

"  It  is  Mie  dull  weather,"  she  said  —  "  the  dull 
weather,  and  the  loneliness,  and  —  and  every 
thing.  I  wish  I  had  never  gone  up  to  Northum 
berland  I  wish  I  was  a  beggar  or  a  servant- 
maid.  Ah  !  Blanche  was  right  in  saying  that  I 
Lad  better  have  been  anybody  than  Lady  Laura 
Tresham." 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  155 

CHAPTER  X. 

YES,    OR    NO? 

AND  this  was  the  beginning  of  a  new  era 
of  stronger  dissatisfaction.  If  she  had 
scarcely  cared  for  Geoffrey  Treherne  before,  as 
the  slow,  heavy  winter  months  lagged  by,  she 
almost  hated  him.  Very  naturally,  Col.  Tre 
herne  was  becoming  impatient.  Of  course,  the 
engagement  must  be  consummated  at  some  time, 
and,  in  Col.  Treherne's  opinion,  Lady  Laura's 
desire  to  delay  this  consummation  was  a  very  ex 
traordinary  one.  He  discussed  the  matter  with 
her  guardian,  and  that  gentleman  bore  down 
upon  his  ward  with  a  weight  of  argumentative 
eloquence  which  added  to  her  troubles  in  no  in 
considerable  manner.  London  had  never  seemed 
to  her  so  wearily,  heavily  dull,  and  the  great 
iron-balconied,  iron-grated  house,  so  intolerant  in 


156  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

its  stubborn  assertion  of  Itself.  That  slowest 
and  most  dignified  of  carriages,  adorned  with 
Basil  de  Tresham's  coat  of  arms,  in  bearing  its 
fair  freight  and  her  card -case  from  house  to 
house  on  occasional  dismal  mornings,  might 
figuratively  be  said  to  have  been  driving  her,  not 
through  her  round  of  indispensable  morning 
calls,  but  driving  her  to  desperation.  And,  apart 
from  all  other  adverse  turns  of  fortune,  really 
Lady  Laura  Tresham  was  not  greatly  to  be  en 
vied,  after  all.  With  all  the  gloomy  dignity  of 
Basil  de  Tresham's  line  concentrated  on  her  own 
girlish  existence,  with  no  home-ties,  and  few  near 
friends,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
bright  home-comforts  of  the  Priory  seemed  to 
her  a  haven  of  rest  and  delight.  In  those  days, 
between  her  weariness  and  Geoffrey  Treherne, 
she  lost  spirit  and  animation,  and  actually  some 
thing  of  the  delicate  rose  heart -coloring,  for 
merly  so  charming.  Now  and  then  Blanche's 
letters  brought  tidings  of  the  two  travelers. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  157 

Ralph  and  Mr.  Lindsay  were  in  Naples.  Ralph 
and  Mr.  Lindsay  had  been  to  Rome,  and  had 
picked  up  gome  pretty  oddities  in  an  antiquary's 
shop  in  some  out-of-the-way  place  or  other,  and, 
having  picked  them  up,  had  sent  them  home  as 
presents, 

"  Mamma  is  more  in  love  with  Robert  Lindsay 
than  ever,"  the  young  lady  wrote.  "  He  has 
written  to  her  once  or  twice,  in  that  honest, 
hearty,  boyish  fashion  of  his,  and  she  watches 
for  his  letters  quite  as  anxiously  as  she  does  for 
Ralph's." 

Now  and  then,  too,  there  came  whimsical 
scraps  of  news,  that  were  plainly  from  this  life- 
enjoying  Rob  Lindsay's  pen ;  and  these  Lady 
Laura  read  oftener  than  all  the  rest.  She  fell 
into  a  fashion  of  sitting,  with  her  hands  folded 
upon  her  knee,  before  the  fire,  in  her  rich,  deso 
late  room,  and  slipping  into  sad,  fanciful,  girl- 
like  reveries  concerning  this  same  Rob  Lindsay. 
How  would  it  have  been,  if  he  had  been  Geof- 


158  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

frey  Treherne,  or  if  she  had  not  been  so  sternly 
set  under  the  shadow  of  De  Tresham's  exclusive 
greatness  ?  Would  she  have  dreaded  the  letter- 
reading  and  the  letter-writing,  then  ?  Would 
she  have  felt  that  dreadful  impulse  to  be  almost 
rude  in  her  coldness,  when  she  found  herself 
alone  with  Col.  Treherne,  doomed  to  sustain 
with  amiability  her  character  of  engaged  young 
lady? 

She  never  did  more  than  ask  herself  these 
questions ;  but  the  time  came  when  she  knew 
she  could  have  answered  them  with  little  trouble, 
and  answered  them  truly,  too. 

But  at  length  the  time  came  also,  when  Geof 
frey  Treherne  could  be  set  aside  no  longer,  and 
then  her  strait  was  a  desperate  one  indeed.  He 
came  up  to  London,  and  had  an  interview  with 
her  guardian,  which  resulted  as  might  have  been 
expected.  Through  sheer  force  of  superior 
power  his  point  was  gained,  and  the  day  fixed 
for  the  wedding.  There  was  a  rush  and  bustle 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  159 

of  trousseau-ordering,  a  steady,  portentous  driv 
ing  of  the  stately  carriage  to  jewelers  and  mil 
liners  ;  and  then,  after  each  day,  there  came  to 
Laura  Tresham,  in  her  lonely,  handsome  cham 
ber,  more  of  the  sad  fireside  reveries,  and  some 
thing  very  much  stranger  than  even  the  old 
impatience  and  dread. 

In  the  letters  that  went  from  London  to  North 
umberland,  it  is  probable  that  something  of  the 
unpleasant  truth  crept  out.  Of  course.  Lady 
Laura  did  not  say  to  her  friend  that  she  was  a 
very  miserable  young  lady,  and  that  she  dreaded 
the  approaching  marriage  more  intensely  every 
day.  Of  course  she  did  not  say,  that  in  defiance 
of  her  struggles,  her  heart  was  following  with 
the  utmost  impropriety,  the  gay  tourist,  who 
seemed  to  be  enjoying  himself  so  vigorously; 
and,  of  course,  above  all,  she  did  not  say  that, 
but  for  the  fact  that  she  was  a  very  cowardly 
young  lady,  she  would  have  rid  herself  of  the 
legendary  Treherne  diamond,  any  day,  foi  this 


160  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

gay  tourist's  sake,  and  have  been  very  heartily 
glad  to  do  so.  But,  though  she  did  not  say  this, 
her  letters  told  Blanche  Charnley  that  her  fair 
friend  was  "  lonely,"  and  "  blue,"  and  "  not  very 
well ; "  that  she  found  London  insupportablej 
and  had  never  enjoyed  anything  so  much  as  that 
summer's  visit.  More,  too,  than  this,  they  spoke 
with  such  evident  shrinking  of  the  arrangements 
made,  and  so  slurred  over  all  mention  of  the 
bridegroom,  and  so  sadly  touched,  now  and  then, 
upon  "helplessness"  and  " f riendlessness,"  that 
Blanche  arched  her  piquant  eyebrows  over  them, 
and  shrugged  her  piquant  shoulders,  and  often 
ended  with  a  little  impatient  "  pah !  " 

But  at  length  an  epistle  came  which  broke 
through  all  restraint  in  a  most  unexpected  man 
ner.  It  was  about  three  months  before  the  day 
decided  upon  for  the  wedding  that  this  letter 
arrived ;  and  it  was  most  unfeignedly  tear  blot 
ted,  and  most  unfeignedly  wretched  and  despair 
ing  in  tone.  It  was  plainly  a  burst  of  appealing 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  161 

desperation,  the  result  of  a  sudden  rush  of  hope 
less  misery,  and  it  ended  by  imploring  Blanche 
to  come  to  London  at  once. 

Having  read  it,  Blanche  did  not  say  "  pah ! " 
she  said,  "  Poor  Laura !  "  and,  after  saying  it,  sat 
down  and  wrote  a  reply,  announcing  her  intention 
of  complying  with  the  request.  Then  she  re 
opened  a  letter  she  had  just  written  to  the  tour 
ists,  who  for  the  past  three  weeks  had  been  in 
Paris,  and,  after  inclosing  a  short  note  to  Robert 
Lindsay,  sent  it  at  once  to  Guestwick  to  be 
mailed. 

Two  days  after  this,  a  carriage,  containing 
Miss  Charnley  and  appurtenances,  drew  up  before 
the  iron  entrance-gates  of  Mr.  Jernyngham's 
town  establishment ;  and  the  visitor,  after  having 
been  received  with  state  and  ceremony,  was 
delivered  into  the  hands  of  her  friend. 

Not  many  minutes  were  required  to  show 
Blanche  Charnley  exactly  how  affairs  stood. 
Laura  looked  pale  and  harassed,  The  last  two 
10 


162  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

months  had  left  their  traces  upon  her  so  unmis 
takably,  that,  in  the  face  of  her  impatience 
Blanche  felt  constrained  to  pity  her.  But  it  was 
not  until  late  at  night,  when,  having  retired  to 
their  room,  they  were  safe  from  all  chance  of 
disturbance,  that  she  brought  her  energies  to 
bear  openly  upon  the  matter  in  hand.  Then, 
having  settled  herself,  after  her  usual  fashion, 
for  a  comfortable  "  talk,"  she  dashed  at  the  sub 
ject. 

"  Now,  Laura,"  she  said,  collectedly,  "  be  good 
enough  to  tell  me  all  about  it." 

Thus  taken  by  surprise,  Lady  Laura  found  her 
color  again,  and  then  after  twisting  Geoffrey 
Treherne's  ring  round  her  finger  for  one  nervous 
moment,  lost  it  again,  and  was  dumb. 

"  My  dear  child,"  persisted  Blanche,  after  the 
manner  of  the  most  elderly  and  experienced  of 
matrons.  "My  dear  child,  there  is  no  earthly 
use  in  pretending  now,  because  it  is  very  much 
too  late,  and  we  are  in  far  too  critical  a  position  j 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  163 

6O  we  may  as  well  be  perfectly  frank  and  truth 
ful  —  as  frank  as  Mr.  Rob  Lindsay  would  be  him 
self,  for  instance." 

But  Laura,  covered  with  convicted  guiltiness. 
did  not  speak,  perhaps  in  consequence  of  having 
most  unaccountably  found  her  color  once  more 
at  the  last  clause  of  the  sentence. 

"  So,  as  we  are  to  be  frank,"  Blanche  went  on, 
"  I  may  as  well  begin  by  asking  you  a  few  frank 
questions,  which  you  are  under  obligations  to 
reply  to  frankly,  however  much  they  may  startle 
you.  Will  you  answer  them,  Laura  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Laura,  in  the  lowest  3f  obe 
dient  voices. 

"Well,"  said  her  friend,  " question  first :  Do 
you  want  to  marry  Geoffrey  Treherne  ?  " 

"  N — o  j "  very  low  indeed. 

Blanche  nodded. 

"I  thought  not,"  she  said.  "Miss  Laura,  no 
weakness,  if  you  please.  Question  second :  DC 
you  want  to  marry  Robert  Lindsay  ?  " 


164  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

A  little  cowardly  catch  of  Laura's  breath,  and 
then  a  decided  dead  silence. 

"I  will  give  you  three  chances,  as  the  chil 
dren  do,"  said  Blanche.  "There,  you  weak- 
minded  little  creature."  (With  delightful  incon 
sistency,  inasmuch  as  Lady  Laura  Tresham  was 
by  no  means  a  little  creature.)  "  Once !  Do 
you  want  to  marry  Robert  Lindsay  ?  Twice ! 
Do  you  want  to  marry  Robert  Lindsay  ?  Three 
times  —  " 

"I  —  don't  know!"  broke  in  her  victim. 
"  Oh,  Blanche,  please  don't !  " 

"You  don't  know?"  echoed  Blanche,  indig 
nantly.  "  Call  yourself  twenty  years  old,  and 
don't  know  your  own  mind  yet !  Yes,  you  do 
know,  and  I  know,  too.  You  do  want  to  marry 
Robert  Lindsay,  and  you  would  marry  him  to 
morrow,  if  you  were  not  a  miserable  coward  — 
afraid  of  Geoffrey  Treherne,  and  afraid  of  Mr. 
Jernyngham,  and  afraid  of  every  one  else,  who 
IB  kind  enough  to  insist  that  you  have  not  a  will 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  165 

of  your  own.  Oh,  you  ridiculous  little  simple 
ton  !  How  you  do  try  my  patience  !  " 

In  this  manner,  openly  convicted  of  cowardice 
and  weakness,  and  all  other  capital  crimes,  the 
fair  culprit  was  completely  subjugated,  and  very 
naturally  gave  way,  under  the  combined  weight 
of  her  misfortunes. 

She  was  miserable,  she  said,  in  the  greatest 
depression.  She  was  wretched.  She  did  not 
want  to  marry  Geoffrey  Treherne;  but  —  but 
how  could  she  help  herself.  She  wished  she  had 
never  gone  to  Northumberland ! 

Altogether,  the  scene,  in  its  thorough  girlish- 
ness  and  incongruity  of  words,  was  not  without 
its  whimsical  side.  In  the  short  pause  that  fol 
lowed  this  declaration,  Blanche  looked  into  the 
fire,  smiling,  a  little,  notwithstanding  her  thought- 
fulness. 

"Laura,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  have  not  yet 
asked  question  third.  When  Robert  Lindsay 


j.66  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

comes  to  London  —  comes  here  —  will  you  see 
him?" 

Laura  looked  up  with  a  faint  start. 

"  When  —  ?  "  she  faltered. 

"I  said  when,"  answered  Blanche.  "And  1 
meant  when.  I  have  written  to  him,  and  told 
him  to  come." 


LINDSAYS   L  &  c  K  . 
CHAPTER  XI. 

THREE    DAYS    AGO  ! 

(CERTAINLY  Blanche  Charnley  had  her  girl 
ish  hands  full  during  tt  e  following  week  ! 
Perhaps  no  young  lady  in  tin  world  had  ever  felt 
a  greater  consciousness  of  secret  guilt  than  that 
beautiful  arrant  coward,  Lady  T/aura  Treshar 
and  this  consciousness  by  no  neans  rendereu 
her  the  most  animated  of  6  >mpanions.  She  was 
harassed  and  dejected,  and  even  Blanche's  most 
spirited  arguments  failed  to  inspire  her  with  any 
thing  of  courage.  Consequently  Blanche  waited 
with  some  impatience  for  Robert  Lindsay's 
appearance.  She  had  not  decided  as  yet  what 
his  appearance  would  bring  forth,  or  what  he 
would  do ;  but,  having  infinite  faith  in  his  powers, 
she  had  at  least  decided  that  he  would  settle  the 
matter  one  way  or  the  other. 


168  LINDSAY    S    LUCK. 

"  If  I  were  in  your  place,"  slie  said,  severely, 
to  Laura,  when  she  had  arrived  at  this  decision, 
"  I  would  not  wait  for  any  one  to  settle  my  love 
affairs  for  me.  I  would  settle  them  myself.  I 
would  write  to  Geoffrey  Treherne,  and  tell  him 
that  T  wouldn't  marry  him.  I  should  like  to 
know  what  calamity  such  a  course  would  bring 
forth.  You  are  not  a  Circassian,  I  hope,  or  a 
Turk,  or  a  Chinese  woman.  If  you  are,"  with 
excessive  tartness,  "  I  have  not  heard  of  it  yet." 

"  I  am  not  waiting  for  any  one  to  settle  my 
love  affairs,"  said  Laura.  "  It  is  too  late  now," 
with  a  little  sigh. 

Blanche  shrugged  her  shoulders,  satirically. 

"Too  late!"  she  began.     "  Robert  Lindsay — * 

Lady  Laura  rose  from  her  chair,  pale-faced  and 
subjugated,  and  walked  to  the  window. 

"Don't,  Blanche!"  she  exclaimed.  "Don't 
talk  to  me  about  Robert  Lindsay.  It  is  too  late, 
and  I  am  miserable  enough."  And  she  had 
scarcely  uttered  the  words,  before  she  turned 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  169 

paler  still,  and  started  from  the  window,  crying 
out,  suddenly,  "  Oh,  Blanche,  there  he  is !  ** 

Blanche  flung  down  her  book,  and  hurried  to 
the  window,  and  to  her  excitement  and  delight, 
her  first  glance  fell  upon  the  careless,  stalwart 
figure,  which  had  so  often  been  the  object  of  her 
good-natured  admiration  —  the  figure  of  Robert 
Lindsay  in  person. 

Laura  drew  back,  excited,  and  nervous. 

"I  —  I  can't  see  him,"  she  cried.  "I  —  I 
really  can't !  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

Blanche  fired  in  an  instant  like  some  small 
order  of  domestic  fire-work.  If  she  was  to 
defeat  Geoffrey  Treherne,  she  must  defeat  him 
now;  if  she  was  to  help  this  indefatigable,  ten 
der-hearted  Rob,  she  must  help  him  now ;  if  she 
was  to  save  Lady  Laura  from  a  life  of  half -love 
and  slow  disappointment,  she  must  save  her  from 
it  this  very  instant. 

"  You  cannot  see  him !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Say 
you  have  Dot  the  courage  to  see  him,  and  you 


170  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

will  be  right  once ;  say  you  are  weak-minded 
enough  to  be  wicked,  and  you  will  be  right  again. 
You  have  been  weak  enough  to  treat  Geoffrey 
Treherne  shamefully,  (not  that  he  doesn't  deserve 
it,  because  he  does;)  but  you  have  still  treated 
him  shamefully,  and  now  you  are  too  weak  to 
right  him,  and  right  yourself,  and  right  the  man 
who  loves  you,  and  who  is  worth  five  hundred 
thousand  Geoffrey  Trehernes.  You  won't  see 
him  ? "  with  terrible  calmness.  "  Very  well, 
don't  see  him,  and  I  will  go  back  to  Northum 
berland  before  breakfast  to-morrow  morning, 
and  you  can  marry  Geoffrey  Treherne,  and  be 
wretched  for  life." 

Lady  Laura  put  both  her  hands  up  to  her  face, 
and  covered  it,  her  cheeks  burning,  her  brow 
burning,  the  very  tips  of  her  ears  burning ;  her 
heart  beating  so  loudly  that  she  was  sure  the 
room  echoed  with  it. 

Blanche  drew  from  her  trim  little  belt  a  trim 
little  jewel  of  a  watch. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  171 

"  I  will  give  you  two  minutes  to  decide,"  she 
said,  emphatically.  "  The  footman  will  be  nere 
in  three,  and  if,  by  that  time,  you  have  not 
spoken,  I  shall  ring  for  your  maid  to  pack  my 
trunks." 

The  first  minute  had  passed,  and  the  second 
was  half  gone,  when  Laura  lifted  her  face,  and 
broke  the  <#ninous  silence. 

"I  —  I  will  see  him,"  she  faltered. 

Blanche  shut  her  watch  with  a  little  click,  just 
as  the  servant  opened  the  door. 

"  Show  the  gentleman  into  this  room,  Martin," 
she  said ;  and,  as  the  man  withdrew,  she  turned 
to  Laura.  "  I  shall  stay  in  the  room  long  enough 
to  speak  a  dozen  words  to  Mr.  Lindsay,  and  then 
I  shall  go  down  stairs,"  she  said.  "  Laura,  you 
have  no  need  to  be  afraid  that  you  are  not  ready 
to  meet  him.  Your  cheeks  are  on  fire,  and  you 
look  like  an  angel.  There,  my  dear,  be  sensible, 
and  think  what  Lady  Laura  Treherne  would  be 
feweuty  years  hence." 


172  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Laura  had  no  time  to  speak.  Her  breath  was 
fairly  taken  by  this  master-stroke  of  rapidity 
and  diplomatic  movement.  The  fact  was,  that  if 
she  had  had  time  to  speak,  or  even  to  think,  she 
would  have  been  so  full  of  misgiving  that  she 
would  have  upset  the  best  laid  plans  in  the  uni 
verse,  and  of  this  Blanche  Charnley  was  very 
well  aware.  But,  with  the  shock  of  Blanche's 
sudden  indignation,  and  that  last  stroke  concern 
ing  Lady  Laura  Treherne's  future,  accumulating 
at  once,  she  found  herself  absolutely  free  to  let 
things  take  their  own  course. 

She  did  not  know  how  much  Blanche  had  writ 
ten  to  Robert  Lindsay ;  she  had  not  even  dared 
to  guess  heretofore ;  but  when  the  two  met,  a 
full  recognition  of  the  truth  flashed  upon  her. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  ask  you  any  question 
now,"  said  Blanche,  after  the  first  greetings  had 
been  exchanged.  "  I  am  going  to  leave  you  to 
gay  what  you  have  to  say  to  Laura.  Mr.  Lind- 
Miy,  two  weeks  ago,  the  young  lady  told  me  that 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  173 

she  was  wretched  and  despairing,  and  guess  why ! 
Because,  if  she  is  not  saved  from  it,  in  less  than 
three  months  from  now,  she  is  to  marry  Geoffrey 
Treherne.  Once  you  told  me  that  if  you  could 
save  her  from  it,  you  would;  and  so,  as  there 
was  no  time  to  lose  I  sent  for  you.  Save  her  if 
you  can." 

Lady  Laura  did  not  look  at  her  visitor  when 
Blanche's  exit  left  them  alone.  She  dared  not 
even  glance  up,  but  waited  in  silence,  her  burn 
ing  blushes  almost  stinging  her  delicate  skin. 
She  was  thinking  that  this  was  worse  than  all  the 
rest.  Rob  Lindsay  was  thinking  that  this  was 
his  last  chance,  and  that  there  would  be  a  hard 
struggle,  before  he  would  let  it  slip  away  from 
him,  and  be  lost. 

"  You  see  that  I  have  come  back  again,  Lady 
Laura,"  were  his  first  words.  "And  I  thinfc 
there  is  no  need  of  telling  you  why  I  came." 

•'  Excuse  my  saying  <so  —  "  she  said,  trying  to 
appear  cold,  and  qiiV  e  conscious  that  she  appear- 


174  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

3d  nervous.  "  But  I  really  don't  know  why,  Mr. 
Lindsay." 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  must  even  tell  you  again," 
Rob  replied  quietly.  "The  reason  is  an  old  one, 
Lady  Laura,  and  one  I  have  given  more  than 
once  before.  It  is  a  simple  one,  too.  I  came 
back  because  I  love  you." 

She  was  conscious  of  a  sudden  throb  of  the 
smoothly-boating  heart  that  Geoffrey  Treherne's 
warmest  words  had  never  had  the  power  to  stir. 
She  was  conscious,  too,  of  a  quicker  pulse-beating, 
and  an  odd,  exultant  thrill  ruling  her  in  spite  of 
her  confusion.  He  had  not  given  her  up  after 
all.  He  loved  her  yet. 

" Do  you  understand  me ?"  he  said  again.  "I 
think  you  do,  and  I  will  tell  you  something  else, 
Lady  Laura.  I  think  if  Col.  Treherne  were  here, 
he  would  understand  too,  for  he  is  an  honorable 
man,  at  least;  and  I  think  sometimes  that  the 
worst  of  men  are  more  merciful  than  the  best  of 
Women.  I  told  you  I  loved  you  when  we  were 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  175 

Northumberland,  and  I  said  I  would  not  give 
up  ;  and  I  have  not  given  you  up  yet." 

There  was  a  slight  pause  before  the  last  word, 
and  a  slight  stress  upon  it,  when  it  was  uttered, 
that  Laura  Tresham's  heart  beat  hard. 

She  could  see  there  was  more  steadiness  in 
kis  manner  than  there  had  ever  been  before, 
and  she  fancied  there  was  more  bitterness,  for, 
though  he  had  not  wholly  flung  aside  his  care 
less,  good-humored  audacity,  he  stood  before  her 
&  man  who  felt  that  to  some  extent  he  had  been 
•wronged,  and  who  was  now  throwing  his  last 


"  But  I  have  not  come  back  to  ask  you  to  pity 
2ae,"  he  went  on.  "Perhaps  sentiment  is  not 
my  forte  •>  at  any  rate,  it  seems  that  I  am  always 
oddly  at  a  loss  for  fair  speeches.  I  have  not 
come  to  say  that  my  heart  will  be  broken,  if, 
three  months  hence,  Laura  Tresham  is  lost  to  me 
forever  in  Lady  Laura  Treherne.  Hearts  are 
not  easily  broken  in  the  nineteenth  century.  I 


176  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

will  not  even  say  my  life  would  be  blighted;  but 
this  I  will  say,  Lady  Laura  Tresham,  simply  and 
honestly,  I  have  loved  you  —  I  do  love  you ;  and 
the  true  woman  who  hears  such  words  from  the 
lips  of  a  gentleman,  will  understand,  simply  and 
honestly,  all  that  they  mean.  The  last  time,"  he 
went  on,  "that  we  were  alone  together  at  the 
Priory,  I  said  to  you  that  if  you  would  tell  me 
that  you  loved  Geoffrey  Treherne,  I  would  leave 
you  at  once.  You  dared  not  tell  me  so,  and  yet 
Geoffrey  Treherne's  ring  is  on  your  finger  now, 
and  you  are  almost  his  wife.  Is  that  quite  fair 
to  Col.  Treherne,  Lady  Laura  ?  Asking  pardon 
for  the  apparent  irreverence  of  the  remark,  is  it 
exactly  what  Basil  de  Tresham  (whose  patrician 
blood  is  supposed  to  be  as  honorable  as  it  is  blue) 
would  be  likely  to  countenance  ?  " 

"  I  wish  Basil  de  Tresham  —  "  Lady  Laura  was 
beginning,  disrespectfully,  when  she  recollected 
herself  and  stopped.  In  her  desperation  she  had 
almost  been  sacrilegious. 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  177 

< 

"If  you  were  going  to  say  that  you  wished 
Basil  de  Tresham  had  never  been  born,"  said 
Rob,  sagaciously,  "  I  am  compelled  to  say  tha* 
my  wishes  coincide  with  yours  most  heartily.  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that,  perhaps,  it  would  have 
been  as  well.  Ah,  Laura !  but  for  Basil  de  Tres 
ham,  my  love  would  not  have  been  an  audacity, 
and  Geoffrey  Treherne's  success  his  birthright." 

But  the  next  moment  his  mood  changed.  She 
was  only  a  girl,  and  she  had  made  a  mistake,  and 
her  rashness  had  brought  to  her  its  own  retribu 
tive  pangs,  and  the  reproach  in  his  tone  forced 
them  to  reveal  themselves.  Rob  forgot  his  satire 
and  his  bitterness.  He  crossed  the  hearth,  and 
stood  before  her  an  instant,  the  full  strength  of 
a  man's  chivalrous  love  warming  him,  and  stir 
ring  him  to  his  heart's  core. 

"Lady  Laura,"  he  said,  "there  are  tears  in 
your  eyes ; "  and  then  in  a  breath's  space  he  was 
down  upon  one  knee  by  her  chair,  with  his  ana 
around  her  waist. 
11 


178  LINDSAY'S  LUCK 

"  Laura,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not  lose  you.  If  I 
have  seemed  bitter  and  careless,  it  was  because 
I  have  suffered.  I  cannot  lose  you,  I  say  again. 
I  love  you,  and  I  will  not  let  you  go.  It  is  not 
too  late  yet.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  say  that  you 
love  me.  I  only  ask  you  to  give  the  Treherne 
diamond  back  to  its  owner,  and  free  yourself 
from  this  miserable  engagement.  I  can  wait  for 
the  rest.  I  will  wait  for  the  rest,  patiently,  until 
you  choose  to  say  to  me  that  my  probation  is 
ended." 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  —  tears  heavy 
and  large,  and,  before  he  had  finished  speaking, 
they  were  dropping  fast.  Laura  Tresham  had 
not  been  made  for  a  heroine ;  and  her  intention 
to  immolate  herself  upon  the  altar  of  her  ances 
tral  greatness  had  resulted  in  too  much  of  real 
martyrdom.  It  had  not  been  easy,  at  first,  to 
determine  to  give  up  this  earnest,  untiring  lover 
for  Geoffrey  Treherne;  but  now  it  would  cost 
her  a  struggle  too  great  to  be  borne.  Her  own 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  179 

natural  weakness  was  quite  as  much  in  favor  of 
the  earnestness  and  untiring  zeal,  as  if  she  had 
been  fortunate  enough  to  be  a  young  lady  of  far 
less  patiician  antecedents.  With  her  trouble 
and  excitement,  and  with  Rub  Lindsay's  strong, 
persuasive  arm  around  her  waist,  dignity,  even 
self-control  was  out  of  the  question ;  and  so  she 
dropped  her  beautiful  face  upon  his  shoulder. 

"But — it — it  is  too  late,"  she  faltered,  tremb 
ling  like  a  lovely  coward  as  she  was.  "  Oh, 
Robert  (with  a  little  catch  of  the  breath  at  her 
own  temerity),  what  could  I  say  —  to  Colonel 
Treherne  ?  " 

"  Say  ?  "  echoed  Rob,  in  a  glow  of  enthusiastic 
fire.  "  Say  to  him  what  I  should  wish  a  woman 
to  say  to  me,  if  she  had  bound  herself  to  me 
rashly.  Say  to  him  e  I  have  done  you  a  wrong  j 
and,  by  marrying  you,  I  should  make  it  a  crime. 
I  do  not  love  you,  and  time  has  proved  to  me 
that  I  was  mistaken  in  fancying  that  I  could; 
and  I  appeal  to  you,  as  an  honorable  gentleman, 


180  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

to  release  me  from  my  promise.'  It  might  not 
be  easy  to  say,  Laura,  but,  by  saying  it,  you 
could  save  yourself  from  dishonor  and  wretched 
ness  " 

It  is  unnecessary  to  record  all  the  circum 
stances  connected  with  the  remainder  of  the  in 
terview.  Suffice  it  to  say  that,  having  love,  and 
tears,  and  vanquished  pride  all  on  his  side,  Rob 
ert  Lindsay  gained  the  victory  which  was  to 
bring  to  a  conclusion  his  daring  campaign,  and 
that,  upon  his  departure,  Lady  Laura  had  gained 
courage  almost  marvelously. 

She  went  up  stairs  to  Blanche  Charnley  all 
a-bloom  with  blush  roses.  Blanche  had  been 
awaiting  her  return  with  some  impatience  and  a 
little  fear,  notwithstanding  her  faith  in  Rob ; 
but,  when  she  saw  her,  she  experienced  an  imme 
diate  sense  of  relief. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  does  Mr.  Lindsay  leave 
England?" 

Lady  Laura  slipped  into  a  chair,  with  a  soft, 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  181 

expressive  little  sigh,  and  an  equally  expressive 
little  deprecating  smile. 

"No  —  "  she  hesitated.  «At  least,  I  don't 
think  so.  I  —  am  going  to  write  a  letter  to  Col. 
Treherne." 

"  Then  you  had  better  write  it  at  once,"  ad 
vised  Blanche,  "before  your  courage  oozes  out 
of  your  finger  ends,  as  usual,  my  dear." 

"It  —  is  written  already,"  confessed  her  young 
ladyship,  with  considerable  confusion  of  manner. 
"I  —  The  fact  is,  Blanche,  I  wrote  it  two  or 
three  days  ago;  but  —  you  see  I  was  —  I  did 
not  like  to  seal  it  —  then." 

Blanche  sprang  up  from  her  chair,  her  amuse 
ment  and  exultation  getting  the  better  of  her,  at 
this  guilelessly  significant  acknowledgment. 

"  Oh,  ye  daughters  of  men !  "  she  exclaimed, 
laughing  until  the  tears  started  to  her  eyes. 
u  Oh,  fairest  and  most  courageous  of  the  descend 
ants  of  De  Tresham !  <md  you  did  riot  know 
whether  you  wanted  to  marry  Robert  Lindsay 
or  not  1" 


182  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

"  I  have  not  said  that  I  wanted  to  marry  him, 
yet,"  said  her  ladyship,  blushing  more  than  ever. 
"He  — has  not  even  asked  me  if  I  would." 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Blanche.  "And  of 
course  he  does  not  know  what  you  would  say, 
if  he  did.  Oh,  Laura,  Laura !  and  you  wrote  it 
two  or  three  days  ago ! " 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  188 

CHAPTER  XH. 

LUCK    TURNS. 

f¥^0  attempt  to  describe  Col.  Treherne's  aston- 
JL  ishment,  when  he  fully  comprehended  the 
turn  affairs  had  taken,  would  be  to  openly  dis 
play  a  weakness.  It  would  not  have  been  like 
Geoffrey  Treherne  to  expect  effusion ;  and  so,  in 
the  earlier  stages  of  the  engagement,  to  his  lim 
ited  mental  vision  the  coldness  and  brevity  of  the 
letters  of  his  affianced  had  simply  implied  a 
becoming  dignity  and  reserve ;  and  thus,  as  he 
Lad  placidly  read  them  in  Northumberland,  he 
had  been  placidly  unconscious  of  how  fate  was 
working  against  him  in  London.  But  there  was 
a  limit  to  even  Geoffrey  Treherne's  shortsighted 
ness;  and  as  the  epistles  became  shorter  and 
more  significantly  cold,  he  had  gradually  awa 
kened  to  some  slight  sense  of  doubt :  but  still  he 
had  not  dreamed  of  such  a  finale  to  his  dignified 


184  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

love  story  as  this.  To  be  worsted  in  such  a  com 
bat,  at  such  a  time,  was  bad  enough ;  but  to  be 
worsted  as  he  guessed  he  had  been,  was  a  terrible 
blow  to  his  arrogant  pride.  And  it  must  be  con 
fessed,  my  dear  reader,  that  this  fair  descendant 
of  De  Tresham  had  acted  with  less  of  stoical 
dignity  than  had  been  customary  with  the  dames 
of  her  noble  house.  It  is  quite  probable  that,  a 
century  or  so  ago,  the  fair  De  Tresham,  who  in 
discreetly  sacrificed  herself,  in  a  rash  moment,  to 
the  family  heroics,  would  have  magnanimously 
and  magnificently  adhered  to  her  resolution, 
even  to  the  wreck  of  her  life's  happiness  and  her 
true  lover's  hope ;  which,  no  doubt,  would  have 
been  very  brave,  and  very  honorable,  and  very 
worthy  her  illustrious  name.  But,  as  you  have 
of  course  observed,  this  story  of  mine  is  not  a 
tragedy,  or  its  heroine  a  goddess.  She  is  simply 
a  young  lady  of  the  nineteenth  century,  with 
all  the  nineteenth-century  weakness  and  faults ; 
and,  having  made  a  very  foolish  mistake,  and 
repented  it,  her  lack  of  heroic  determination  is 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  185 

neither  her  fault  nor  mine,  but  probably  the 
fault  of  the  nineteenth  century,  which  philoso 
phers  assure  us  is  a  period  terribly  retrograded 
from  ancient  Spartan  virtue. 

Summoned  by  Lady  Laura's  letter,  Geoffrey 
Treherne  came  to  London  at  once ;  and  then, 
but  for  Blanche's  presence  and  encouragement, 
Laura's  position,  between  her  guardian's  indigna 
tion  and  her  ex -lover's  somewhat  haughty  dis 
pleasure,  would  have  completely  overwhelmed 
her.  As  it  was,  it  was  by  no  means  a  pleasant 
one,  and  the  termination  of  the  interview  between 
the  three  tried  all  her  resolution;  but  in  the  end, 
of  course,  the  majority  on  the  side  of  love,  car 
ried  the  day ;  and,  for  perhaps  the  first  time  in 
her  wardship,  the  young  lady  withstood  the 
opposing  power  of  her  guardian's  eloquence. 
To  that  stately  and  somewhat  pompous  individ 
ual,  his  ward's  unexpected  firmness  was  almost 
as  astounding  as  her  unprecedented  offence.  He 
could  not  understand  it,  and  was  forced  to  retire 
from  the  scene  a  vanquished  potentate,  and  let 


186  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

Treherne  go  back  to  Northumberland  with  the 
legendary  diamond  in  his  portmanteau. 

And  then,  very  naturally,  as  a  consequence  of 
the  excitement,  after  the  interview  was  brought 
to  a  close,  Laura's  spirits  flagged  again,  and  she 
was  a  very  dejected  young  lady  indeed.  She 
could  not  see  Robert  Lindsay  now  —  she  was  not 
sure  that  she  wanted  to  see  him  at  all,  at  first; 
but,  on  finding  that,  for  several  days,  Robert 
Lindsay  did  not  trouble  her,  her  opinions  began 
gradually  to  change.  The  fact  was,  that  Robert 
Lindsay  was  a  sagacious  young  man,  and  his 
experience  had  taught  him  exactly  what  the 
result  of  Treherne's  visit  would  be  ;  so,  for  &  day 
or  so,  he  confined  himself  to  occasional  evening 
etrolls  past  the  iron-balconied  mansion ;  and  it 
was  not  until  the  end  of  the  week  that  he  entered 
the  iron  gates. 

The  footman  who  opened  the  door,  knew  him 
as  a  friend  of  Miss  Charnley's;  and  when  Rob 
informed  him,  coolly,  that  there  was  no  necessity 
for  his  being  announced,  adding  the  pardonable 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  187 

fiction  that  he  was  expected,  he  showed  him, 
without  further  ceremony,  into  the  room  where 
the  two  young  ladies  were  sitting. 

Blanche  greeted  him  delightedly.  She  was 
tired  of  waiting  for  a  finale,  and  was  getting  out 
of  patience.  She  had  been  expecting  him,  too, 
and  Laura  had  not ;  consequently,  Laura  rose  to 
meet  him  flushing  and  paling  like  the  loveliest  of 
grown-up  children. 

Before  half  an  hour  had  passed,  Blanche  dis 
creetly  retired  to  the  window  with  her  work, 
and,  taking  a  seat  behind  the  curtains,  counted 
her  stitches  as  though  her  life  depended  upon 
the  completion  of  every  rose-bud  she  worked. 

Lady  Laura  stood  upon  the  hearth-rug  in 
silence,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  fire,  and,  for  a 
few  moments  after  Blanche's  discreet  me  ve,  there 
was  a  slight  lull  in  the  conversation. 

To  Rob,  Lady  Laura  Tresham  had  never  seemed 
less  Lady  Laura  Tresham,  and  more  the  woman 
he  loved,  than  she  did  then.  The  blaze  of  the 
fire,  dancing  upon  the  white  hand  hanging  idly 


188  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

by  her  side,  showed  it  the  fairest  of  handle  ».» 
smooth,  round  wrist,  set  in  a  ruffle  of  web-like 
lace,  but  showed  no  Treherne  -  diamond  on  the 
slim  forefinger;  and  so,  not  being  the  man  ta 
brook  delay,  he  went  to  her  side  and  took  it,  this 
passive  white  hand,  in  his. 

"So  long  as  you  wore  Treherne's  ring,"  he 
said,  tenderly,  "I  only  said  I  loved  you,  asking 
for  nothing;  but,  since  I  knew  that  you  no 
longer  wore  it,  I  have  only  waited,  what  I  thought 
would  be  your  pleasure,  to  come  to  you,  to  speak 
once  again.  Laura,  you  know  what  I  am  asking 
you  for?" 

But  Laura,  fair  traitress,  said  nothing. 

But  Rob  was  a  frank  wooer,  and  cared  little 
for  her  silence,  since  he  knew  what  a  sweet 
truth  it  told ;  and  he  slipped  his  strong  arm  about 
her  slender  waist,  and  drew  her  to  his  side,  and 
kissed  her,  as  Geoffrey  Treherne  would  never 
have  done,  if  he  had  loved  her  a  thousand  years. 

"  I  said  I  would  wait  patiently,"  he  said,  kiss- 
!ing  her  hand,  too,  and  then  holding  it  to  his 


LINDSAY'S  LUCK.  189 

breast  as  he  spoke;  "and  so  I  have  waited, 
Laura,  nearly  six  days.  And  six  days  are  six 
ages  to  a  lover  —  a  lover  like  me,  dearest.  And 
DOW  I  have  eome  to  you ;  and  as  I  hold  you  in 
my  arm,  though  you  have  not  spoken  a  word  to 
me,  I  can  read  in  your  sweet  face  that  I  am  not 
to  be  wretched ;  and,  before  Heaven,  my  darling, 
I  am  a  happy  man." 

But  Laura,  fair  hypocrite,  said  nothing. 

"  See  !  "  he  said,  drawing  a  little  case  from  his 
pocket,  and  taking  from  it  a  sparkling,  flashing 
ring,  sapphire  set.  "  See,  Laura !  no  Norman 
brought  this,  to  be  handed  down,  with  its  legend, 
through  generations  of  noble  brides;  no  barons 
have  worn  it,  and  no  kings  have  praised  it ;  but 
I,  Rob  Lindsay,  who  love  you  with  my  whole 
goul,  and  my  whole  strength,  and  will  love  you 
through  life  and  death,  with  a  gentleman's  faith 
and  reverence,  ask  you  to  answer  my  appeal  by 
letting  me  place  it  upon  your  hand,  and,  by 
wearing  it  there,  until  you  give  me  the  right  to 
claim  you  for  my  wife." 


190  LINDSAY'S   LUCK. 

And  Laura,  fair  queen  dethroned,  and  woman 
crowned,  held  out  her  white  hand,  the  pure  heart 
touched  —  pearl  tears  slipping  softly  away  from 
her  lashes  for  very  joy. 

Rob  put  it  on,  the  sapphire -set  circlet,  and 
then  caught  her  in  both  his  strong  arms,  and 
kissed  her  again  and  again,  until  her  blushes  had 
almost  dried  her  tears;  and  between  tears  and 
blushes  she  was  fairer  and  fresher  than  ever. 

Then,  with  his  arm  still  round  her  waist,  Rob 
took  her  to  Blanche's  window. 

"  Tell  her,  Laura,  my  dear  !  "  he  said,  with  a 
touch  of  his  old,  cheerful  audacity. 

Lady  Laura   laid  the  hand,  wearing  the  sap 
phire  ring,  upon  Blanche's  shoulder. 

"  Blanche,  dear,"  she  said,  with  her  most  guilty, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  most  lovely  hesitation,  "  I 
am  —  engaged  to  Mr.  Lindsay." 

Blanche  rose  with  a  little,  happy  ghost  of  a 
laugh;  and  then,  of  course,  girl -like,  broke  off 
with  a  little,  happy  ghost  of  a  sob ;  and  then, 


LINDSAY'S   LUCK.  191 

taking  refuge  in  the  fair  face,  kissed  it  to  the 
full  as  heartily  as  Rob  had  done. 

"  You  see,  Laura,"  she  said  to  her  friend  that 
night,  when  they  were  alone,  "  You  see,  my 
dear,  how  exactly  we  grown-up  children  are  like 
the  children  in  story-books,  and  how  much  hap 
pier  we  are  when  we  have  been  honest,  and  told 
the  truth.  Just  imagine  how  wretched  you 
would  have  been  if  you  had  not  told  the  truth  to 
Geoffrey  Treherne  and  Robert  Lindsay." 

Very  deeply  struck  by  this  philosophical  appli 
cation  of  a  popular  and  much-preached  conclu 
sion,  Lady  Laura  glanced  down  at  her  sapphire 
ring,  which  was  sparkling  beautifully  in  the  fire 
light,  and  drew  a  soft,  little  sigh. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  she  said. 

"And,"  began  Blanche  again.  "Now,  con 
fess,  Laura,  now  that  the  trouble  is  over,  are  you 
not  just  as  glad  as  the  story-book  children  are 
when  they  have  spoken  the  truth,  and  have  just 
found  out  how  dreadfully  they  would  have  beea 
punished  if  they  hadn't  ?  " 


193  LINDSAY'S  LUCK. 

And  the  answer  was  another, 

"  Yes,  dear." 

The  world  frequently  hears  it  said  that 
Laura  Lindsay  is  one  of  the  happiest,  and 
beautiful  young  matrons  in  the  shire  in 
her  husband  has  settled  down,  and  boug 
estate.     People  say,  too,  that  Mr.  Lindsay 
of  the  most  popular  of  men.     The  countr 
try,  whose  pedigrees  date  back  through  cei 
of  nobility   and   grandeur,  respect   and   * 
him.     He    is   popular   because   he   is   ger 
daring,  and  thoroughbred.     He  leads  men 
rank  might  entitle  them  to  lead  him ;  and 
men  are  his  best  and  nearest  friends.     T 
astonishing  luck,  they  say,  in  this  man,  w 
gained  everything  that  fair  fortune  could  1: 

But  Lady  Laura,  in  whose  wifely  e; 
is,  of  course,  a  nineteenth  century  her< 
that  her  husband's  luck  is  simply  her  hu 
generosity,  kindness,  and  courage. 

THE    END. 


A     000138864     4 


